I was going to post about how well the reading went, but I am so filled with joy at having found my knitting (which I’d left at NYU and which no one could find and so which I assumed had inexplicably been stolen) that I’m finding it difficult to concentrate on the Holocaust.
The one thing I’ll say is that I was doing totally fine until I looked over and saw my father in tears, at which point I melted, thawed, and resolved myself into a dew.
Luckily, I seem to have resolidified enough by now to knit and purl. I should have a sweater finished just in time for winter.
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