Somewhere around 1934, my mother handed me a copy of The Secret Garden, said a teacher had given it to her when she was a child, which would have been somewhere around 1914. That's copy's long gone, probably to one of the kids. So now, somewhere around 2012, I’ve just downloaded
The Complete Works of Frances Hodgson Burnett (cost: 99 cents)
and I’m re-reading The Secret Garden on my new Kindle Paperwhite.
Okay, with no pictures. But it seems they’re all still here, in my head.
And with no grandchildren due here until Thanksgiving, I figured out how to do it all by myself.
Here in Canada the 11th of November remains celebrated nationally as Remembrance Day, with national coverage of a minute of silence at 11:00 in Ottawa, at least by the CBC. Participation in WW1 was a very big deal for Canada's development as a nation. Local somber parades are organized by veteran's organization at cenotaphs across the country. In my town, a squadron of WW1-vintage airplanes flies by these celebration, and an antique artillery unit in full uniform fires a 21 gun salute of blanks, aimed right across the inlet towards my home. It inevitably sets of someone's car alarm, and some baby is likely to cry briefly, which may be appropriate. But no street cars stop, as these long ago disappeared!
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