I woke up this morning thinking about change; I haven't done that since I turned in my proposal. I shrugged it off and went about my day's usual start. As I was shuffling things around on my desk, this picture fell out of one of my notebooks.
The man in the picture is Homer Sweet. He would be dead in a very few months. The little kid is me. The house in back is the one I live in now. He was born in Sheldon, and, could figure board feet of lumber in his head.
However, for his entire life, he could neither read nor write.
I also have my grandmother's autograph book, a popular form of pleasure in the 19th and early 20th centuries. (She was born in 1865.) On the inside of the cover she wrote:
Given to me on my 14th birthday, if I would not read a book for a year.
Some changes in Vermont are part of much wider changes that occur in history. And, funny coincidence--this post is I guess, my small contribution to The Big Read.