It’s November 3rd and I’m already on poppy number two. I picked the first one up from a legionnaire at church on Sunday, and despite my carefully placed stick pin, last night it blew off of my coat in the wind tunnel that is the exit from Gloucester Road station.
I picked up another one this morning, from a soldier in the tube station by my office. “Really jab that pin in there”, he suggested as I tried to get the small, red reminder to stick to my trench coat. So far, it’s hung on.
I’m in the midst of Birdsong, by Sebastian Faulks (British, of course, as per the rules of my year of exploring British authors). The book that kick-started the Brit-Lit year was also by Faulks - One December, which I read last December after my first trip to London. I loved it, so when I saw Birdsong in Slightly Foxed (my local bookshop – second hand and new), I snapped it up. Now I can’t put it down.
Tender, grim, and eye-opening, it’s about a British soldier during World War I. A fitting read for this month of remembrance. Do you have your poppy yet?