I talked to my mother last night and she said "At least it's quiet in your neighborhood now that everyone is gone." Oh no, I said, the people in the camp below my house are here for the week, and next weekend is Columbus Day, one of the busiest weekends of the year, and Linda and Erdvilas will be here for a week after that. I can't (well, shouldn't) complain, these people are my best friends and I thoroughly enjoy their company. They are wonderful people. I just need to get my life in order, to clean my house, finish stacking my wood, get myself primed for winter.

The weather doesn't help--it was nearly 80 yesterday, sunny and HOT. I hosted, and cooked Sunday dinner at camp. I made meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn off the cob and apple crisp with whipped cream. Fred, Bill and Ken were there for dinner, with four more joining us for dessert. It was really great. The four who joined us for dinner were the people from below my house, former campers who've known Ken, Bill and each other for 45 years or more. At one point all of them were sitting on the porch visiting and having just a wonderful time together and I felt so fortunate to be able to host a great event like that in such a great setting.

After dinner I cleaned it all up and sat on the boat house porch for a bit, reading and dozing. Heaven on earth. There's a bit of color in the mountains, but very little when you consider it's already October and we're usually just past peak at this time.

Last night I made honey cake, trying out a Martha Stewart recipe. It's for a potluck luncheon we're having in honor of our New Director (N.D.), who starts today. She is very, very nice. I don't know how the cake will taste or even why I decided to make it. The batter tasted sort of good but mostly just interesting. You're supposed to put carmelized pears on top of it but I'm just putting Cool Whip on it instead.

Friday night I had dinner at Linda's camp with Marykay and her son Eli and their two dogs. Eli adopted an 8-year old female dog who is probably a cross between a Lab and a chow. She is a wonderful black dog with a purple tongue. I love that tongue. We had a nice evening and I enjoyed myself. Linda called while I was there and it was great to hear her voice. I wanted to talk longer to her but M. was tapping her foot because dinner was ready at that exact moment and you don't let her dinners get cold, apparently.

I had a negative dog experience over the weekend. Saturday was a gorgeous sunny day and I was sitting in the sun in my yard reading. Dogs went bluff-climbing with strangers, but Chances came back. Tess did not, was gone for hours. I had to leave at 4 to go to a dinner party for Bill's birthday in Plattsburgh, transporting Ken. Tess wasn't back yet and there were 5 cars at the bog, signaling a lengthy visit for her with strangers. The dinner party was nice, good food and excellent view because the house is on Lake Champlain. When I got home Tess was waiting outside the door, as I had hoped she would be. There were two voice mail messages, however: one from someone who had Tess at the Beach House, more than a mile from my house, and had climbed the bluffs with her. He said he was trying to find my house. The second call was from an unidentified woman, most indignant, who said that I was not taking good care of Tess, that Tess is a very nice dog and that either someone was going to steal her, or she was going to be hit by a car, or someone would sue me because she was bothering them. Then she said that she understood my last dog was hit by a dump truck, so I'd better take better care of Tess, and hung up. Well, I have to admit she was right on all counts (except the part about being sued). So I have to take better care of Tess. I can't let her leave my property, and I certainly can't let her climb the bluffs with strangers anymore. I have worried about her being stolen when she disappears for long periods of time. Sometimes I'm not a good dog owner, I admit. I would mind very much if anything happened to my little Tess.

So today is the first day of a new era at work. The era of Ewa (pronounced Eh-va). It's an adjustment and everyone here is very quiet today. I went into her office and said good morning, welcome, we're happy to have you here and we think it's really cool to have a car with Alaska license plates in the driveway. She off to Elizabethtown this morning with our Account Clerk, who will no doubt try to indoctrinate her and convince her that he is indispensable and always right. But so far she seems to like me. And it's a gorgeous, sunny, warm and wonderful day.