summer people? still here

As my friend Linda said this morning, "Aren't you getting tired of eating out?"  Well, yes, a bit, but I always remind myself that I won't see these people until next year.  Ken and I used to tell each other to visit with the summer people as much as we could because it would be a long, solitary winter.  Right now that sounds just dandy.  I love these people dearly, but enough is really enough.  Dinner with people 3 nights this week.  Quick stop at someone's house once, with an anticipated quick visit with Linda after work today.  Linda will be here until mid-October, but that's coming up, isn't it.

Weather is very fall-like.  Semi-warm days and in the 40's at night.  My nights of staying in the boat house may be over.  But then again, sometimes Sept. brings wonderful weather with sunny days and warm nights.  No dock, so swimming is doubtful.

I'm taking Monday off from work (wait, I would take it off from something else?).  Just needed a day to force myself to work on the house.  Must dump pots of dead flowers that are on the deck, bring in the hummingbird feeder, hang the new, "squirrel-proof" bird feeder I bought for winter birds, and--this is crucial--do some work INSIDE the house.  It looks as if someone lives in it but has never thought to put things away.  I guess I'm home just long enough to toss stuff around but never long enough to clean it.  I did tidy up a bit last weekend when someone came over to dig up horseradish and I thought she might want to come inside.  I changed my mind when she arrived, and even though I knew she wanted to visit, I was a bad, bad friend and didn't invite her in.  Not many people get to come inside my house--mostly I stand on the deck to visit with them.  Winter presents a problem with that.

The sun is shining and it's a really nice autumn day.  I guess--I can't see much from my desk, mostly the driveway and the wall of the public library next door.  I'm leaving early, though--time for an oil change and rotating the tires. of the car.  I think I must need new shocks by now, the bridge is out by my house and I've been driving the 4-mile stretch of pot-holed and washboarded dirt road to get around the river.  Sometimes I go fast, believing I'm flying above the washboarding, mostly I go slower and listen to my car rattle.  I can't guess how many bolts must need tightening.

I suppose it's time to get back to cataloging the Rugr*ts now.  I have a bunch of books that are published, 2 to a volume, with one book upside down to the other one.  TWICE as much cataloging for a single book.  Brother--what torture will they think of next for us dorky catalogers?