The lack of dates is just my speed. When I was home over the summer I entertained my parents by reading to them from my (copious) childhood diaries. In one from when I was nine, I began: “Let me get one thing straight. Dates mean NOTHING to me! For example, it says today is Jan. 1. BUT IT’S NOT. It’s [some date in spring]. And do I care? NO.”
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Notes from others: