I made some cookies this evening. I also learned how to knit… again. As I sat down with a ball of peach yarn and the two yellow plastic knitting needles I’d fished out of Mom’s knitting box, Andrew walked in and said, “Jonah, not you, tell me your not learning how too…?” “What of it?” I glared at him. “Jonah, if you do this, my whole confidence in you will be shaken.” “You’re just jealous.” So I did. Denise gave Ben and me a lesson on how to knit, though, she does it the wrong way, so I’ll have to learn the right way sometime soon. I doubt doing it the wrong way will hurt me much. After each line, I’d ask Denise, “Uh, how do you do this again?” My first line was far, far too tight. “Perhaps it’s a reflection of state of being,” I suggested.

I blew up at Nathan today. I yelled at my dad last night, telling him to get out of the kitchen. Denise went with me to the flea market this afternoon. I wanted to try to get the windshield on the Voyager fixed, since it’s got a couple of spiderweb nicks in it, which will grow if we’re not careful. There was a piece of paper, blown crooked in the wind, taped to one side of thewindshield repair place’s stall. I pulled it back to read, “Gone to store be right back –Tony.” Denise went over to look at ribbon while I sat in the car and waited. When it became evident that “be right back” was a figure of speech, I had Denise escort me to the used book booth. There, I purchased a collection of short stories edited by Ursula L’Guin for a buck and a quarterand returned to the van to wait. I’d read 2 and a half short stories when I finally decided to leave. Denise had come back and was napping in the seat next to me. Three unsure guys had come up and appeared to be waiting for “Tony” to come back so that they could collect their minivan. As we drove away, Denise asked if I was mad. “Yes,” I said, “but not about the windshield.” “Well, what are you mad about?” “I don’t know.” “PMS?” “Probably.”