Had he and I but met
    By some old ancient inn,
We should have set us down to wet
    Right many a nipperkin!

    But ranged as infantry,
    And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
    And killed him in his place.

    I shot him dead because—
    Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
    That's clear enough; although

    He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
    Off-hand like—just as I—
Was out of work—had sold his traps—
    No other reason why.

    Yes; quaint and curious war is!
    You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat, if met where any bar is,
    Or help to half a crown.

The Man He Killed By Thomas Hardy

I have family members and extended family members who have served in the army of late; and I don't mean to offend.  But, I can't escape this nagging sense that the glorification of armed service (even the name is misplaced, it seems more like armed employment) doesn't always serve us well. 

 I just think our leaders and decision makers are more likely to make the right choice if we don't help them foster a culture where we encourage our young men and women to make themselves indentured servants to warfare; to sell their future for a pittance and in pursuit of glory and honor infinitely deferred; an empty promise.  We should be teaching our promising young people skepticism and a sense of honor and pride anchored in true service; making the life of other human beings better and more productive; not just more dead. 


Oliver is feeling much better.  Of course, the worst part of the whole situation was that Oliver never felt bad, at least not until the nurses stabbed him with an I.V.  Certainly he needed special medical attention, but you should at least feel bad if you have to be in the hospital.  The hardest part for us as parents (and we're very blessed that this was the case, don't get me wrong) was figuring out a way to keep Oliver in the bed for a solid day.  

Anyway, all is well now and I thank all of you for your good wishes and happy thoughts sent our way.