It was my little sisters birthday today, so cheers to you, Lily. Not that you’ll see this, as you’re only seven at the moment - but maybe, one day you’ll care.

I’ve added my twitter to the sidebar so you can better stalk me and the blends page is half done, you can go give it a look if you fancy. For those who are new it’s here. The ones from last year are all up and have thumbnails, but the underline on the links appears to be causing a weird problem, so ignore any random looking black and/or orange lines, please.

I’m currently working on some craft projects I plan on selling. I had made a blog for that on wp.com, but thats apparently a no no so I’ll have something fixed up soon, probably. Things like hand dyed papers/OOAK* corkboards/ Goddess Dolls and such. Is there anything you think I could do that you’d like to see for sale?

On another note, someone apparently brought me paid time on Flickr. Which is weird. And I have no idea who did it.. but.. cool stuff!

Oh and mum brought me The Children of Hurin… I think thats all I have to say. *ponders*

Oh and Lea, happy birthday. Again. Despite I said so a day early.

* OOAK means ‘One Of A Kind’

PS: Okay. Maybe not. Go check out my new forums:

INTRIGUING MEMORIES.

*pimps*

For the Fallen

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres.
There is music in the midst of desolation
And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;
They sit no more at familiar tables at home;
They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;
They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Laurence Binyon (1869-1943)

On this day, the 41st anniversary of the Battle of Long Tan. We remember the fallen, and thank them for their services to preserve our way of life. We wish our troops well, and hope they come home whole.

You can find out about the battle here.

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Listening to: Delta Goodrem - Not Me, Not I
via FoxyTunes