11/11 - Some Gave All. All Gave Some. Let us remember them.
Had a very paperworky day today, but - nearly cleared a space on my desk. Nearly. Not a big space. Quite a small one. I'll take it as an achievement though.
Sherlock has made a large poppy using...a paper plate, I think. And given it to John. On it it says 'A Poppy helps us remember Men, Women, Children and Animals who fought for our freedom'. He proudly said that they didn't have to put animals, but he wanted to. That's our boy ;)
He's learning things about Evacuees at the moment, and life on the Home Front. I think because it's easier for the kids to understand things like that. I mean, War is so...huge, and so horrific. It's difficult for children to relate to that, isn't it? That adults are so out of control sometimes that they think the only answer is killing each other. I think Sherlock can grasp most of it, sort of, but I'm sure some of the others would really struggle.
So at the moment it's probably a good start for them all. He proudly told me that there was a young lady who got blown up three times and still wanted to work with explosives, and survived the war - all without leaving home! She worked in the munitions factories, I think, from his description.
Anyway, without further ado (and this is Sherlock's fault too - he said it was obvious what was going on...)
Greg The Florist - Part Who Knows?
John jerked awake, with no idea what had startled him.
He turned to Greg, to see if he was awake too, only to come face to face with a large wolf. He yelled, shoving the creature away, scrambling from the bed until he tripped over the sheet, and landed in a heap in the corner, heart beating a million times a minute.
"What the..." Greg's confused voice was slightly muffled.
John glanced back at the bed in time to see Greg pick himself up off the floor on the other side of the bed.
"Watch out! There's a..a..an animal, in here," John got up, still crouching, ready to move.
"Is that why you shoved me out of bed?" Greg looked around, apparently not seeing the large grey wolf. "Think you must've had a nightmare, love."
"I..." John could still feel the texture of soft warm fur, feel the heat of the animal's breath on his face. "I....it was real. I mean, it seemed real."
Greg walked over to him, his body bathed in bright moonlight - the clouds had obviously cleared outside, leaving the bright silvery light to fill the room. He reached down, and John took his hand and allowed himself to be pulled into the hug.
Greg was warm. Breathing slightly heavily, but then, so was John.
"There wasn't anything here. I was awake. I would have seen it, yeah? You must've just been dreaming. Understandable - it's bloody spooky, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, you're right."
John allowed his hand to creep up into Greg's hair.
It felt exactly the same as the creature's fur...