Today is Anzac Day - a day where patriotism comes into its own here in Australia. Flags are brought out, medals are dusted off, copper pennies are unearthed for the otherwise illegal two-up games and, with a public holiday declared, the truly enthusiastic of us head to dawn services at cenotaphs around the country. The less enthusiastic stay huddled in bed until eight & then make their way to a march where they can wave their flags with joy and hold precious the memory of those brave diggers & nurses who have fought for and served Australia over many wars. Righto... so I'm in the latter group. What's wrong with that? The march was the usual fantastic display of courageous men, sparkling medals & buttons & bagpipes with a fly-over & some horses tossed in for good measure - with a dog dressed as a Lighthorseman to boot. Now, following a barbie & a beer, I am here in front of my computer looking at my Blogger prompts written in French (pourquoi?) & trying to work out how to make my photos do the things I want them to do... I've even got a brilliant plan to try & attach a YouTube movie of the march but let's just not hold our breaths for that right now...
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