An almanac is a diary you keep before the year happens.
This one is Ethereum's, and it is not finished.
Farmers kept them. Frost dates, tides, when to plant, the phase of the moon, and blank space at every date for what actually happened. One book a year, and nobody threw out the old ones. The margins are where the real record ended up.
What you get
One ERC-721 token for one calendar date, on Ethereum mainnet. You pick the date, choose a category, type up to 200 bytes, and pay 0.00721 ETH. The contract draws the artwork inside the mint transaction and stores it on chain, so it needs no image host and no IPFS pin.
366 dates, one owner each. No date comes back.
A diary of Ethereum, kept by whoever shows up
Ethereum has no shared diary. The Merge, the DAO, the first Devcon, the night you finally understood what a wallet was. Those dates live in old blog posts and group chats nobody scrolls back to, and in your own memory, where they are safe from everyone except you.
So: one page per date. 103 arrive with a researched entry and a source, readable here. The other 263 are blank.
Put Ethereum's history in your 200 bytes if that is what the day means to you, or your own day, or something with no Ethereum in it at all. The contract stores your bytes and never reads them.
The book
The book is done when all 366 are minted. Until then it sits half written, and the diary page shows you how far along it is.
Every day costs the same
0.00721 ETH. December 25 costs what March 3 costs. The contract never ranks dates. Someone will pay more for a birthday later. People decide that part.
You mint blind
No preview. The colour comes from the block that mines your transaction, your address and your words, none of which exist while you fill in the form. Change one letter of your entry and you get a different piece.
So the form shows one thing: the grey template for the day you picked.
How to read one
Every piece states its own date. The shape is the date.
Cells run clockwise from the top right corner. Count the lit ones. Seventeen lit means the 17th. The 31st lights one extra cell inside the corner.
Twelve bars sit inside the ring, one per month. They fill as the year runs. August lights eight. December fills the interior.
Unlit cells stay grey. That is the rest of the year.
80 colours, taken from Checks by Visualize Value. Which ones you get comes from the block that mined your day. Mint the same date in another block and the shape repeats. The colour never does.
Layout is fixed, colour is a moment
Day 15 lights fifteen ring cells, for everyone, forever. The colour cannot repeat. Neither can the minute you minted.
The 103 are suggestions
Each comes with an event and its source, pre-filled in the mint form. Keep it, or clear the box and put your own day there.
Once the page is taken, the difference is gone. No badge, no flag in the metadata, nothing in the art. Nobody browsing later can tell a researched day from one a stranger wrote at 2am. The contract was never told either.
That is deliberate. A diary stops being a diary once an editor ranks the entries.
Nothing here is private
A diary you keep in public is a strange object. Your address, your words and the minute you minted go on chain, forever, for anyone. That is the record, not a side effect of it. Write accordingly.
This site sets no cookie and runs no analytics. Two third parties still see you. The public node that serves the chain reads your IP next to the pages you open. The wallet connector calls WalletConnect on every page load, before you touch anything, and that shows them your IP too. Run the site against your own node if that matters. The code is MIT and the contract needs neither.
What the book is for
When the last date mints, a year of Ethereum has been written down by 366 people who never agreed on what mattered. No curator picked the entries. Half of them are probably not about Ethereum at all. The disagreement is the record, and it stays in one place, on one chain, in calendar order.