Because of this day, I exist.

I will come to a time in my backwards trip when November eleventh, accidentally my birthday, was a sacred day called Armistice Day. When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.

It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.

Armistice Day has become Veterans' Day. Armistice Day was sacred. Veterans' Day is not.

So I will throw Veterans' Day over my shoulder. Armistice Day I will keep. I don't want to throw away any sacred things.

What else is sacred? Oh, Romeo and Juliet, for instance.

And all music is.

Kurt Vonnegut
Breakfast of Champions (1973)

EZ Pi Shawl Complete! Another photo

 

EZ Pi Shawl Complete!

 

This was knit with mystery yarn given to me by my SIL. Laceweight wool. Size 2 needles. It blocked out to about 50" in diameter.

In my yard

 

Double knitting photo

 

Double knitting

I think I'm getting the hang of this.

Although there is snow, there are signs of Spring

A pair of mourning doves are making a nest under my kitchen window. There is constant activity as they bring twigs and grass from the yard to the bush and weave it all together to make a nest.

Four kittens were born last night in a basket in my dad's garage: two gray ones, two gray-and-white ones.

The hollyhocks are beginning to grow.

The days are longer and longer. Midsommar Dag will be here before we can blink!

Prom. I saw the limousines.

The sailing season has begun.