The best autumn ever
The weather this fall has been phenomenal. We just had another banner weekend, temps in the 50s and nice autumn sunshine. Granted, the sun is low in the sky and shadows are long, but the air has such a unique quality to it that you can't help appreciating the change of seasons. It's more like November than October, the leaves are nearly all gone. Only the aspens--the poplars and quaking aspens, big-toothed aspens, of which we have a few, still have leaves. They make a gentle rustling sound in the wind, very nice to hear. I love November, when the woods become silent once again. It's interesting to me that the poplars and aspens are the first to get their leaves and the last to let go of them. What a tenacious tree, yet thought of as trash, having no value for furniture or firewood, just used for pulp in this area. In our family we have a romantic thing about the rustling of poplar leaves, both the visual and audio effect of them. They're beautiful against a deep blue sky.

So I had a good weekend, was outdoors-productive to the point of reading outside yesterday afternoon until I finally said "I don't have to be outside anymore, I've done enough of that to feel satiated!" I cleared furniture off my deck and stored it for the winter, removed my screen door, put up window boxes I'm going to plant spring bulbs in (I bought those great bulbs in RI, now I just have to buy the dirt), moved stuff out of the plow's way, inspected the area in general, and sat in the sun and read that damned book I'm valiantly plugging along with. We're up to 1399 now in Greenland and almost to chapter 3, "Love." Chapter 2 was "The devil," and has been very bleak, lots of death by starvation, vomiting, some murder, young girls too ugly to find husbands, starving livestock, depleting numbers of seals, etc. Let's hope love heals all. I'll never finish it by Thursday night's discussion but I'll work on it.

Had dinner with Lin Saturday night at my new favorite restaurant. Ralph is off hunting and fishing so we were free to stay as long as we wanted. We had a really nice time, had fun talking about the book and about life in general. Food was good, mood was good. She's working hard but has a new job that is less physical, about which she has mixed feelings. Me, I'm too old to have a physical job, wouldn't know how to deal with it.

Last night I watched Jon Stewart on 60 Minutes. I never watch that show anymore but wanted to see my boy Jon. He didn't disappoint me, was definite in his assertion that his is NOT a real news show, it's fake news and shame on the media for taking him seriously. No, they're not really broadcasting from Baghdad. Steve Croft did a pretty good job interviewing him, tried to laugh when appropriate but didn't really get the humor. Today's Washington Post online had a good article about Jon. My but he's getting a lot of attention since he trashed Crossfire last week. What a cutie.

Saturday night I was half watching SNL and there was pathetic Ashlee Simpson, lip-synching her music. When her second song came on they put on the wrong music and started to play the song she'd done earlier. She's such an unprofessional twerp she walked off the stage and later blamed her band, claiming they started to play the wrong song. In fact, they played the right song, it was the dub of her voice that was wrong. I was thinking about her this morning (gives you some idea of what my morning drive to work is like) and realized what a huge difference among performers there is. Others, more professional, who take their craft seriously would never have walked off the stage on national television. But of course, they would have been live--wouldn't they? Maybe I'm not realistic. Anyway, Jenica and I watched an MTV or VH1 something on her and she's a twit of course.

I started closing up the boat house yesterday afternoon. Phase one. Empty the refrigerator (just in time--Jim and Jamie shut the power off on Friday, naturally without checking the contents of our fridge), strip the bed, start organizing the stuff that will get mushed into the bins. Will it all fit? It seems as if there's more than there was last year. Only one way to find out if it fits, and I'll try to do that this weekend. I just didn't have the motivation to do it yesterday, even though it was warm. I guess I'm too used to closing camp when it's cold and miserable and I have to wear a down vest. Can't do it when it's sunny and pleasant. The dogs had their swim and I glanced at the 12 dark yellow trees among the purple of the naked ones on the far shore. Very satisfying for all. My there was a lot of foodstuff there--I sampled the Hawaiian Punch juices left by the O'Neill-Rogers people. Boy are they awful. I can see why kids love them. I now have 4 kinds of beer and a year's supply. Will bring the rest of the liquor home the next time, save it for next year. Can make no promises about how much will be left. I do like Kaluha in my coffee, but then I don't drink coffee at home. Like to sip tequila but don't much drink alone.

I like Jenica's comments about walking across the library while unbuttoning her pants. I just did the same thing here at work. I always start unzipping as I approach the bathroom, and always leave the stall door open, can't stand the tiny space created by a closed door. We have a small staff and it's usually ok, but I have to hustle to slam it shut when I hear someone come into the bathroom. I always leave the door open at home and am amused by friends who live alone and do the same when they visit me. Force of habit. Of course, there are friends who don't shut the door tightly and have the dogs bash the door open to see what's going on and say hello, as they always do when I'm sitting on the toilet. It seems to be their favorite time to attempt communication with me. As near as I get to eye level, which is all fine until Tess wants to jump onto my lap. No, no, no. They love to do that "go round and round and round" thing against my shins.

Got to talk to Molly on Saturday, that was a treat. She always calls me before I call her. I'm poor at gauging the time difference. I can remember when talking to her on the phone was traumatic, the sound quality was poor and it was just a reminder that she was far, far away and unavailable. Now I see her regularly and the phone calls sound local and we're easy and relaxed with each other, familiar with each other's lives and routines. I can picture her home and city, the view from her windows, the weather in the summer, the sky, the sulfur smell that's sometimes there, her patios (including the one where the laundry hangs, which gives me the willies to stand on).

Not much going on this week, just a few things. Appointment with psychiatrist tomorrow. I'll be sad, will be glad I went. Thursday is the book group, looking forward to that, will be glad I have that. Will have a hard time deciding on our next book, especially after this one! We have a union breakfast on Thursday to hear what the members want us to ask for at the bargaining table this year. We're ready to start negotiations, contract expires in Dec. blech.