Three blind mice

Or there used to be three, anyway. This lone rodent lost his two compatriots in a Christmas Day massacre. Blinken and Nod fell into a trap cleverly devised by Lucy and Ricky.

In truth, Winken, Blinken, and Nod were knit out of leftover Mountain Mohair in Day Lily. I winged it as I went along, and when stuffed with catnip the mice were highly desirable, I can tell you!

I just finished Nathaniel Philbrick's riveting book about the original Plymouth settlers' first 50 years in New England. The book, Mayflower: A Story of Courage, Community, and War, is a fascinating account of the uneasy alliances, rivalries, friendships, and betrayals that led to horrific and bloody battles (and percent of armies killed even higher than had occurred in the Civil War and WWII) and foreshadowed the decimation of the Native Americans in North America yet to come. It wasn't all hugs, kisses, and "come celebrate Thanksgiving with me, Buddy!" that our history books would lead us to believe.