One Thing Was Clear

World War I ended on November 11, which, this year, fell on Sunday.

Grumpy's Grill offered free dessert to all veterans, in honor of their day. So, on Sunday, I treated Amster to breakfast after the gym. She took the free brownie and ice cream home to her boys; she kept the server's heartfelt Thank you for your service! for herself.

Today, Monday, we ate breakfast burritos, my treat once again, in honor of her day, once again.  She told me I didn't have to keep on buying her foodstuffs.  I just smiled.  She served.  I didn't.  Breakfast was on me.

Once again.

It was explained to me that Jewish holidays are, for the most part, celebrated for two days, because they were calendar-less.  They relied on the shofar, a notoriously difficult to blow but once blown emitting a piercing shriek ram's horn. A guy on top of a mountain shrieked the news (Today's the day!) to another guy on the top of another mountain and so on and so on throughout the land.

Like the very young Big Cuter and chopsticks (C'mon, Mom, they've seen the fork!), the very young Me felt the need to remind Mrs. Glouberman that it really didn't make much sense in 1960, when we had radios and televisions and telegrams and then she asked me if I was finished and it went downhill from there.

With that in mind, I resolved to put my reservations about celebrating the same event two days in a row.  Intrepid Cat was born on November 11; today she was quite pleased to sleep in on her birthday.

But her birthday was yesterday.

Does she get two cakes?

These are the things that occupy my brain as I strive, mightily, semi-successfully, to avoid politics and politicians.  There is one thing for sure - Amster has earned much more than breakfasts.  She kept me safe from harm.