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Friday, December 11, 2009

First Christmas Party of the season

The kids had thier first christmas party tonight. It was a combination of two of the clubs at school, kids club and cheerleading club. So we had a craft, dinner and dancing party!! It was so much fun! The kids had a great time.
For craft time we made bath salts. It was really easy, just epsom salts, baking soda, salt, smelly stuff and food coloring. Once mixed up they put it in fabric and tied with pretty ribbon. So I now know what I am getting for christmas!
Dinner was lots of fruit, veggies, popcorn, pb & j sandwiches, ham & cheese sandwhiches, mac n cheese, chips and cookies. Best of all the kids all sat on a blanket on the floor picnic style!
Dance time was so much fun! I even got out there with them. Victoria was a bit scared by the commotion so she watched the dancing. Both kids were very tired when we got home :)
Just before they left they got gift bags and this was inside:

It is called a "Buddy" Poppy Panda, put out by the VFW. Inside is the story of the poppy flower that so many associate with VFW fundraisers. The kids love it!

Col. John McCrae was a Canadian who served with British forces during WW1. In 1915, he wrote "In Flanders Fields" after seeing the striking image of bright red poppies blooming among rows of white crosses marking graves of war dead in Belgium.
McCrae, who died of pneumonia and meningitis in a British officers' hospital in 1918, believed that the ideals and causes for which veterans fight and die must always be remembered.

In Flanders Fields by John McCrae
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow,
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky,
The Larks, still bravely singing, fly,
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead, Short days ago,
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie,
In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe,
To you from failing hands we throw,
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die,
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow,
In Flanders Fields.

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