Misfits came today, no pink van, but nice Hakeem
delivered today, such a nice guy, noticed me, shouted a greeting, waved.
The box seemed small, no wonder, they'd omitted my vital diced tomatoes, two cans, dang. Now credited. They're very quick to make right, complete with a human being making sure both were credited, and apologizing for the mistake.
But the other vital items were there. The potatoes are really good, unmarked, good quality. Apples likewise.
And because I was completely out of bread adjacent food, I made these muffins yesterday, using the last of the blueberries.
Toasted for breakfast. Or afternoon tea. Or anytime really.
I haven't mentioned D-Day in here, but did talk elsewhere online, people interested in my memories as a child in Europe. There's some pressure to write more, make a video, do a podcast.
Eager learners, but I had to explain that PTSD from that whole period, seeing things little children shouldn't see and can never forget, makes it pretty much the stuff of nightmare. I can handle brief comments but not extended exposure.
I explained why I can't watch Wizard of Oz, tried, and had to leave at the writing in the sky. Smoke in the sky was imminent death. My subconscious still thinks that. Searchlights too, mean enemy planes in the sky. Even when they're only advertising a restaurant opening! Barrage balloons likewise, bringers of destruction. To a little kid hard to grasp they were protective, because they were so huge and frightening and silent, seen tethered on the ground in the local park.
Some people were very tickled to hear anecdotes about things like receiving food parcels "from AMERICA!" from the viewpoint of a little kid at the receiving end.
They'd never thought about it. Some, very young, didn't know about food parcels at all. I thanked them, for their parents, maybe grandparents, who were the donors. They were so moved by this real life, not in the history books, convo.
Anyway that's why I haven't talked in here. I'm all too aware.
Happy day everyone! Take care, remember why we need to vote blue, so it doesn't happen again.
Also enjoy your day!
I was a baby for WWII, and D-Day. My father worked for Goodyear Aircraft, designing electrical systems for blimps, those great floating aircraft that looked out for ship convoys. I watched some D-Day programing today, including film of the Normandy landing. There in the air were hundreds of blimps. For all that he resented not being able to fight in the war, he helped.
ReplyDeleteHe did his part. It all mattered.
DeleteI watched some of the Canadian D-Day ceremony coverage today from Juno Beach, where the Canadian troops landed.
ReplyDeleteThey were acknowledged at the time. Canada always shows up!
DeleteLiz, I appreciate hearing briefly your experience as a child during WWII, and can imagine from your explanation how traumatizing these experiences were. That makes total sense. From my comfortable perch (both in location and on the timeline of history), the effects of war on children aren't always readily intuited.
ReplyDeletePeople don't quite grasp what they haven't experienced. But like you, they still empathize.
DeleteMy mother lived in the south of England during the war and told stories of planes going overhead from the nearby airfields. She told us of jumping off her bike and hiding in a ditch when the air raid warnings went off. It is a different world and yet so close. It is so sad that the trauma of the children wasn't recognised and addressed in a timely fashion.
ReplyDeleteThe trauma of the adults wasn't recognized either. Part of it was the sheer length of the war. Six years, then nearly ten more years rationing and austerity.
DeleteBy the way, I left you a clue to the puzzle in my comment yesterday but it seems to have slipped through - unless I got the answer wrong!
ReplyDeleteIt landed but I didn't comment till now.
DeleteI am so sorry that you have to live with those memories, Liz. No child should - yet so many, all over the world, even today, are subject to such terrors. Empire-building, and consequent war, seems baked into our species. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteChris from Boise
So true. Mine is one of billions of stories.
DeleteMisfits sure is an exceptional service. So sorry to know about the hell you lived through, but so glad you’re here!
ReplyDeleteI am, too. I've outlived many of my contemporaries.
DeleteI vaguely recall something about sending a food parcel over. This might have been in the very early 50s. I wonder if it is a real memory?
ReplyDeleteRationing ended in the UK in 1954, so it's likely a real memory.
DeletePeople forget on these days of memorialization that it was not just the soldiers who were there. It was the children, too. And no, I am sure you do not need reminding.
ReplyDeleteThis is how I think about children today in Ukraine.
DeleteI have some understanding about your feelings. My father was in the Pacific during WWII and never spoke of it. We really do need to vote blue, this is all too familiar.
ReplyDeleteA lot of people can't speak, more than briefly, about what they saw.
DeleteI can't even imagine how horrible it was for you and other children to be in the thick of the actual fighting. we sent our soldiers overseas to fight, our citizens safe at home.
ReplyDeleteYes, we need to work where we can to stop more of it.
DeleteSpecial photo for you today on my blog!
ReplyDeleteYes, it was great!
DeleteI'm sure if it were left to those, like you who remember so vividly, there would be no more wars. Sadly such is not the case.
ReplyDeleteYour misfits box always looks so good - missing tomatoes notwithstanding.
Men always seem to think it's the answer even when it never has been.
Delete