The other day, Cheryl-MuggleN0More and I were walking along this nice creek trail in Rohnert Park when we began to talk about the past and as you know, by nature, chit-chat wanders off into so many facets.
Somehow we came upon the subject of my Uncle's basement and all the stuff he had sneaked away over the years before he passed. He had all sorts of stuff that most would never understand... From a working Edison Wax Cylinder recorder to a collection of crystal door knobs, from a full bench of aging home-made wines to a Rube Goldberg machine that would seem to keep one marble perpetually on the move for hours.
But what interested me the most was his collection of journals he wrote about his adventures with his Russian friend during the cold war.
One such journal really kept my attention as it was just a list of dates, spanning a few years when I was just a child.
- October 6, 1964
- November 17, 1964
- March 1, 1965
- September 24, 1965
- November 19, 1965
- September 16, 1966
- September 23, 1966
- March 3, 1967
- February 3, 1967
- October 2, 1967
- October 16, 1967
I'm sure these dates have meaning but the history books list such random events for these days that we just can't seem to grasp it.
Can you?
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