02 » Si vis pacem

I've found work at the Farm, and it's pleasant enough. Perhaps it is best to keep busy. I much prefer the new housing, at least. Quite convenient.

I take it the proverbs painted everywhere of late are part of the oddities I was told to expect? Though I wonder why swooping would be bad, or why it would interest anyone whether I have licked a lamppost in winter.

The helmet, however, is unnecessary, and the strange piecemeal mail pointless. My bones may creak, but I can indeed run across a rope bridge without a misstep. Wouldn't the enormous sign warning about that be better used as wood for repairs, if such were needed? Or the visored helmet make tripping more likely, not less?

I do also wonder what this means:

In war, victory.
In peace, vigilance.
In death, sacrifice.
I'm tempted to say it follows me, given how many times I've spotted it written on every half-usable surface.