It's Christmas time... in the City.

The first sure sign that the Christmas season is here... Starbucks Peppermint Mocha.

Remembrance Day. And Freedom.

On Friday at school we had Remembrance Day Chapel. Time to reflect on those who fought, and those who fell, and those who still fight for our freedom. Freedom to live in this vast continent of ours, where peace for the most part reigns. Where we understand nothing of the daily hardship and survival that is war.

I have read stories of many who have endured the horrors of war, both at home and on the battlefront. Heroes, who risked their lives to rescue the oppressed. Heroes who returned, emotionally and physically scarred. And heroes, who became the fallen comrades.

I have met a mere few who served and survived. These are our Veterans, and we revere them for their courage and contribution to our freedom.

Until seven years ago, I had never personally known any who had fought and fallen. Now there is always one face that comes to mind every Remembrance Day.

Scott J Procopio.

I first knew him as a youngster, vacationing with his family in Florida. He was a cute little guy back then, with an impish grin and sparkling brown eyes that usually meant he was up to no good. That grin became a broad smile when, just as I was least expecting it, he'd gone and pushed me into the deep end of the pool. And then I couldn't bring myself to scold him when he smirked at me with those dreamy eyes of his. Oh he was a charmer.

I remember receiving the news of the tragedy that took him in Iraq. Roadside bomb. He was 20 years old. Shock. Disbelief. Tears. A soldier, with whom I had a personal connection, had fallen.

Death, when it hits so close to home, has a stark solemnity about it. I am truly humbled and grateful for those who have served and sacrificed for my earthly freedom. Today, the eleventh day of the eleventh month, at the eleventh hour... I paused for a minute of silence.

And I also thanked God for the One who sacrificed His life for my eternal freedom. The Lord Jesus, the Son of God, became a man and died on a cross for me, so that I could have freedom from the bondage of sin. He is my Saviour. Is He yours?

Halloween Madness.

Halloween has crept around again. There's been much ado from two girlies in our house about what to wear, and how to wear it. They've been planning, and putting on, and posing for weeks now. 

The final consensus deemed Number One would dress up like a Nerd. Left-over get-up recycled from an evening at Camp this summer. Nice to see she's being frugal, for a change. Number Two decided she'd go dressed as a Clown. An apt fit with her B-type personality.

Unfortunately we had to make a last-minute costume change. The Clown, suddenly stricken with a nasty stomach flu, was forced to become the Patient.

So she had to miss out on trick 'r treating this year, and instead sat with her puke bucket by the front door, watching all the costume-clad youngsters coming for their treats. She's such a good Patient, though.

The Nerd excitedly joined her neighbourhood friends for some local trick 'r treating.

 

She returned with a stash, and happily divied it all up to share with her fallen comrade.

 

I loved seeing the all the costume creativity this year. There definitely seemed to be more deviation from the ghastly and ghoulish to the cute and creative. Some of the variety showed at my own door, and some I viewed on Facebook. But I have to say that I think this one was by far the most entertaining for me this year.

It, let's just say... dethroned them all!

His costume was one I saw on Facebook. I think if he'd showed at my door, it definitely would have been the first time I'd be challenged to throw chocolate down the toilet!