Ugh

It's Virginia, and it has, once again, become warm enough to open the window in the morning, for the cats. Silverlock, the kitten, has become old enough to try to jump out of the cat's window; I just had the scare of the century when she pried herself up, and looked around at the natural world for the first time. There is nothing like vigorously yelling, "NO!" at the top of my lungs to get my blood moving.

I don't feel good anyway, and I have a full day ahead. But it's rainy, and warm, and I love the rain. It will be good to get out in it.

Here is the demon spawn child.

In one of her more relaxed moments. Now I understand why Mom gave my brother and I spoonfuls of whiskey and honey when we were sick. It was just an excuse to slow us down for a bit.

The bear still makes her regular visits. Hopefully, she will hibernate soon.

With the warm, moist air, it has gone back to being a typical Fall, for this small corner of the world. The grass is now green and gold, and the fields at the Old House are all gold now. Only the pump handle and the pitchfork are a muted red, against the darker rust of the side of the barn.

I wish this entry was longer, but I truly feel pretty horrible and have a long day ahead. I will write again tomorrow. Please meet me here...

Evergreens

It is officially too cold to open the cat's window anymore. They suffer, especially since Silverlock follows them around like a fart. All the flowers are gone, after yesterday morning's hard frost. The garden is done for this year. I have a basket of dried zinnias to plant next spring. And the lavender still blooms, being an evergreen...

The trees rapidly change colors, but the maple in the back yard is still green. With the frost, it will not be long before it changes, as well. The bear still visits us by moonlight. I just hope she doesn't come back with cubs in the spring, but moves on to greener pastures.

Bears aren't stupid. I have seen them crack Coleman coolers open, over a rock like opening an oyster, to get to the food inside. Our neighbor took bungee cords and secured our plastic trashcans. I unsecured them. I like my trashcan to work, and don't want it destroyed for the goodies inside.

I am good on my medications, and take them faithfully. I don't want to cut or drink, although the sunlight is brighter but shorter now. I am getting over pleurisy, with bronchitis.

I am happy that this week is Halloween. I take a child's delight in the wind, and the shuffling leaves underfoot. But I heard this morning of another lost fern kitten. She was 6 months old, and named Seafoam...euthanized at the local Regional Center for Animal Control. There is nothing to do in this year that the kitten litters did not end, but take up what tools we have, and try harder to save more.

Please adopt, spay/neuter.

Blueberries and Pumpkin Pies

The cats knew this morning would come, one day. The first day the window won't open for their morning perambulations. The bear ate well, last night. Some blueberries and several frozen pumpkin pies (don't ask) made it into the trash yesterday. If I tie the bags tight, she takes them whole, back to her den. Somewhere out there, in the forest, there is a circle of paper and plastic containers, where she sleeps.

Dooley got adopted last night. I am very happy for him, he needs so much more attention than I can give him...Happy Days, Dooley.

Now, only Silverlock needs a home, and I will be back to the original pack of unicorn meat eating cats...

And Max? He loves the cold. Barking keeps him warm at 7 in the morning. And the neighbors love it, too. Meanwhile, the stress I live in has lessened, a bit. The pleurisy lives on, but I am coughing well.

It is very cold for this time of year, but not as cold as the weather forecasters said it might be. The leaves are still green on the trees, some of them are. There was a small frost last night, and it sets the lifespan of the geraniums that thrive a crisp red in the fall air.

Georgia counts the days until Silverlock has a new home. As I try to plan a way to keep her. I will not succeed, but it will not be for lack of love. The ghost kitten is part of my life now...fleeting and immortal.

Bear Dreams, Cool Mornings

My level of stress reached its inevitable conclusion yesterday, in the form of pleurisy, a lung infection.

 One of my Halloween pumpkins was starting to turn bad, so I put it on top of the trashcan, within easy reach. In return, the bear sent me a dream.

I was in the Old House, in Botetourt. Every cat I have ever loved was with me, and it was wintertime. The time I love best, at my old home. Where I could wake and see the distant mountains, at Eagle Rock, and the lovely winter field, below the house. The paths of the deer and the turkey wandered through the trees, whose trunks stood in relief against the sun. The field was gold, where the sun lighted, and the evergreen forest stood at the edges.

So, with every cat around me, I looked down into the woods, and saw a sawed trunk of a large tree. 3 bear cubs gathered at the trunk, as if it were a table, and one human child. The bear had borne a human. And I know it was me, by the auburn hair and curls.

I woke this morning very peaceful, although the trashcan is turned over, and the air turns cold. The winter kitten runs through the house.

Usually, my worst nightmares consist of very teeny cats, the size of kittens, who run everywhere and urgently need to be protected. In my dreams, I cannot protect them all. But in this dream, the cats are cat-sized, and they are companions, who run free at last. All my cats who are over the Rainbow Bridge were there, and ran circles around me, as now, the bear walks circles around the house I live in.

The bear was telling me, in last night's dream, that all my cats live with me still. The bear is enfolding us for the winter. The winter kitten now has a bear spirit to protect her, for life, wherever she may go.

I know this blog post can't give you the feelings the bear left me with. And it is a bit confusing, maybe. But, in my own way, I want to give back to the bear the comfort and love she left me with. My life has been up and down, lately. I have neglected this time with you. I have found a great love, and I have been ill. I have not drank nor cut, and have no desire for them.

But I come back to this beginning: writing. I rededicate my life to my sobriety and my well being. I dedicate myself in this most uncertain times, to the certain things that I love: the cats, my dog and my Love.

What do you dedicate to the bear, today?

Frustration

The post for this morning sucked, so I deleted it. I've reached a level of stress that isn't pleasant to live with: mainly, but not limited to, my living situation. It doesn't help household conflict, that the bear owns the yard, every night from about sunset to 8 in the morning. I have almost run into her twice now. I know she is afraid of me, as I am afraid of her. Max is the only reason for a night time stroll, and he seems more curious about the bear than anything. I have gotten a flashlight to defend myself.

I admire the bear, pity it, wish it well, but now, at night, a dream bear follows me in my sleep.

Some of my stress is seasonal, as the days get shorter and shorter. The window is open for the cats this morning, despite the cold, because menopause keeps me rolling in sweat, mostly at night. My leg heals but slower than I would like. Pain doesn't make me any more pleasant. I have also reached 'cat maximum' for my apartment, with 2 fosters.

So, I brush my teeth, and take my medications, and try to go outdoors as much as possible, during the daylight. I let the cats out to lower their stress levels. But they are more afraid of the bear than Max is. One night, I brought the brave hunter, Ratty in, and he was shivering and staring intently toward the edge of the woods.

I used to live next to a county where cougars killed house cats...I don't know about bears. But I am not willing to risk my babies.

It IS a Monday. On the good side, the sunlight is shafting across the green and gold lawn. The flowers still bloom, pink, gold, and blue. A hard frost hasn't fallen yet. And the leaves continue to turn: gold, red, orange.

Have a good Monday, wherever you are. And know I think of you.

Bears Eat Pumpkins

The year runs like a river, down to the sea.

I still open the window, in the morning, for the cats. The bear and the full moon make a lovely pair, in the evening. It's a bit like living in a campground. The grass is more gold, every day, and the birds still sing. I watch the orange tabby, Ratty, run past the marigolds, that are as fall like as he. The rusted cat shaped chimes hang year round, and drift with the wind.

Silverlock, the winter kitten, wants to follow the big cats outside. But her coat and size can mark her for a predator, and I hope she will be indoor kitten all her life.

It is horse riding time in the year, and time to drink. I did both long ago. I can't do either anymore, but I miss the horses on a fall day. I could lean against them to absorb their heat, on a frosty morning, and the stable smelled like hay, and sweet grain.

Dooley is ready for adoption. He went to the vet yesterday for a checkup, and he is healthy, although 4 lbs overweight. Apparently, he is just a massive cat.

You can't tell from his picture, but his feet are almost Max's size.

I have been sleeping solidly from 11 to 7, and it feels wonderful. I don't know what I have done to earn the blessing of sleep, but I am grateful for it. I will be an outdoor cat today, and the sun will shine, and the air will be crisp.

The leaves on the trees will turn a bit more, and the sun will set a bit earlier. And tonight, Max and I will go out to look at the moon, and watch for the bear, and think of Halloween.

The Cats Disappear in Leaves

The moon is lovely in this October sky. Silverlock spent the night outside of the crate, last night. It's a good socialization for her, but wears on the nerves of the unicorn meat eating cats. I can't tell you how I feel, for once. I have had a large amount of stressors this month, but I love the season so much, trouble seems to slip by, until I start crying.

Don't get me wrong, I was out with the leaves yesterday, covering the pool. I tend to appreciate the leaves even while crawling under a deck. Change is still moving in the air, this fall season seems shorter than any other. The impatiens and marigolds fool me into dreams of summer, and if I close my eyes after mowing the grass, I can imagine that it is early Spring. I listen intently to the birds, as they make their way South.

The trees sigh as the sap rises. They know what comes, as well as we do, with all our clocks, and calenders, and holidays. The cats roam far and wide these days, as I leave the window open all day. It is their time, the leaf cats, the stream cats, the fern cats. In this time of year, they all blend in with the foliage...tabbies, orange and grey, and the dilute (gray and gold) tortoiseshell named Georgia. 

Soon, the grass won't need mowing, but the leaves will lie on the lawn to be shredded for next year's grass. They will dry and become weightless, float in the wind. I have isolated this month; I have been listening to the voices on the wind. And in me. I know the new medication is working, some days I feel numb. I feel willful, and reluctant against the tide of the stressors. I have been dropping things from my routine, that are good for me, this week.

I want to cocoon myself, when I need to be sunning. I need to be outside, watching the moon. I have been doing that the past couple of mornings, when the sky is still black, and the moon illuminates the clouds. Sometimes the stars appear.

I look toward today with an eye toward the leaves. Sometimes I can shut out the world by shutting out the noises, the cars, the clanks, and sirens of the day. The noise that fills our lives. If I concentrate only on vision, my eyes on the leaves, I can see the pine needles falling now. I am the leaves and the trees and the bear in the woods. I am on a forest path, riding a horse past ferns, past trees, past rocks. The ground soft under hoof, the thudding warns the deer.

Quiet the Day

It is cool and quiet this morning in the Blue Ridge. The kitten sleeps in her crate, so the unicorn meat eating cats can have some peace. Max and I went out last night, for a pee, and almost ran right into the bear. It's one thing to observe him/her from a window, but another to interact with him/her. I think I will think of the bear as a she.

She was ambling away from the house and I saw her by silhouette. I realized she was more than a dream when she turned her head towards us. In my fog, I had hoped that she was merely a bear shaped shadow moving: the moon was obscured by clouds last night.

All in all, the experience was very Halloween. A little fright, dark clouds drifting over the moon, and the cool, unreal presence of the dark. Perhaps we should advertise the bear's visits and set up some kind of haunted house for older children. We would need insurance waivers...

It was a beautiful, pink dawn and the grass still needs mowing, gold and green as it is. The storage shed, painted like a barn, brings up poignant memories of horses, and rides through the forest.

It's a good day for group therapy.

Lack of Focus

Now that it's later in the morning, I have had enough of a day to report on it. The bear broke into the trash again last night. The cats insanely jump in and out of the window, staying close by. Max, the dog, won't go out unless it is broad daylight.

I wish no harm to the bear. It's his/her Blue Ridge Mountains, too. I lived in the country for a very long time for a reason: I appreciate nature, in all Her manifestations. I am just worried about the animals entrusted into my care...

Silverlock is up for adoption in two weeks. My baby.

Whoever adopts her better treat her right, or Momma and Max will go after them...

Dooley is still up for adoption as well. Poor thing is not getting enough attention at my house, and he is a lovely cat, although there is a lot of him to love.

The dahlias are doing wonderfully. I didn't know they were a cool weather flower, having never grown them before. The marigolds hang on, and the impatiens have over run their bed to sprout from the gravel walk.

It's time to pull the fall clothes out. I am tired of the summer selection, and would like to change color schemes as well. I think that's enough for today. There is too much that goes on, at this time of day to write contemplatively about anything. Just my lack of focus.

Ghost Kitten, Black Bear

I stood 10 feet from a bear last night and it was a wonderous thing. Their fur doesn't reflect light. It absorbs it. It was a black shadow that walked across the lawn, carrying a bag of garbage. Max went insane, trying to get out of the window, and the mighty hunters, the unicorn meat eating cats, ran in, afraid.

In this very suburban neighborhood that I live in, we are afraid of this bear. But I count it as a marvel to have seen it so close.

Cool has set in, in this most beautiful of autumns. And the days are properly suited to Halloween: dark, rainy, with lowering clouds. The cats spent the day outside, yesterday, scudding about in the woods, like garden wraiths. The field is damp, the color of cut hay. The tree trunks are dark brown now, and run with water. There is a ghostly mist above the field, and the rocks turn blue and black. Tinker Creek is dark grey, and subdued, with the misty rain.

The sacred, white ghost kitten, moves over the grey carpet, like a cloud moving over a field. It is almost her time, invisible in the snow kitten. She will be up for adoption in 2 weeks.

Her pictures cannot do her justice. She has the most enormous blue eyes, that follow me about the apartment.

The leaves change color overnight, and some fall right then, in their solitude. Others linger, to be shaken down by the wind. Or they float listlessly down, in seemingly simple ennui, to their resting place.

Dogs That Bark, Claws That Clutch*

I try to think of a word to describe my day, my mood, my ambiance. The word is irritated. I am irritated for the same reason many women all over the world are irritated once a month. I am also in pain. I have pulled a hamstring, and a leg muscle. They happen to be the same ones I pulled in Scotland, walking the Royal Mile...

I have a seven week old kitten, gawd love 'er, and a dog who runs after her, and barks and chases the other cats, to protect her, which she doesn't need. She does need to stay off the keyboard, which she can't manage. When I swat the dog on the rear, for chasing the unicorn meat eating cats and barking at them, he looks at me like I just took a pound of flesh off him with a cat o' nine tails...he is so betrayed.

One of the cats needs a steroid shot for her allergies, before she loses all her hair, and I can't lift the crate. The new foster, Dooley, is stuck in one room, although he has made himself at home; of course, he wants out. I can't vacuum or lift the laundry, without my back, down to the foot, creaking and sighing and shifting like a mast on a ship at sea. My breath sucking in when this happens sounds a lot like the sails moving in the wind.

My kindly osteopath worked on me yesterday, and I am healing well, but I am still creaky. With pain. And tiredness. And Evil on my heart, like a cat wears fur. Today is a good day not to f**k with me. The bright spots in my day are the marigolds outside my door, and the fall-drooping zinnia. My apartment isn't clean enough, the state of the world sucks, and Georgia is half bald.

Did I mention I am in pain?

The good things about today: strawberries, the love of the kitten and cats and dog, company coming later, clean laundry, and the indecision of when to get the winter clothes out. Marigolds, fall scarves, the cool in the air, and the trees slowly turning color. People love me, I mean I have real friends, who really love me and call and tell me they love me. I have a life that includes animals, and fall colors, and friends.

Just found a place, on the antique mahogany  table, where the cat barfed.


*With a nod toward Lewis Carroll

Morning and Marigolds

It's a busy day for me today, and I am grateful for it. I love these cool mornings, and breezy afternoons, with the leaves shuffling underfoot. The bear got into the garbage last night, and took his booty off somewhere, I don't know where.

My old therapist is back. Not the old, old one, but the more recent, old one. And I am vastly comforted and relieved again to have someone to whom I have nothing to explain: he has heard it all. Dooley will be joining us today as a foster. I am desperate to place him with someone, but his time is out where he is. He is laid back, neutered male, UTD on shots. You remember me talking about him:

Please, if you live near Roanoke, VA, and know someone, arrange a meet and greet with Dooley today! Simply write me.

Perhaps I am simply stocking up on my cats, for the winter. But I have too many males as it is.

The grass is truly golden now, and the dead leaves drift across lawns and fields. They are caught in spider webs, and drift aimlessly to gather at the forest's edge. Some of the trees have caught fire, but their leaves stubbornly stay in place. No one has pumpkins out; bears love them, particularly the seeds.

But the trees and the weather decorate for us, and celebrate this hibernation we approach, called Winter. You know I love winter, I love to clean the ground in the garden down to the bones. I leave mulch down, leaves, to warm and protect the earth.

Yet, I look right now, at this bit of Spring called Silverlock. Or maybe, she really is a Winter kitten, with her coloring. She is a snow kitten. A winter gift. She has the energy and restlessness of the winds that blow in winter. And yet, she has the heart full of spring.

Cabbages and Chrysanthemums

It is a cool morning, and the cats have been out and back, again. It is a return of those days in the year, where there is an argument whether it is better to open the window, or to leave it closed. For my sanity, it has to be the depths of Winter before I will leave it closed. The unicorn meat eating cats circle me like vultures in the morning, around the door, and I give in. They eat unicorns, humans are next.

I have a rather largish apartment, but it cannot replace the 100 acre farm the Old House backed onto, in Botetourt. They had a cat door there, open 365 days out of the year. To say they are mildly discomfited by the restrictions placed on them now, is understatement. But one does what one can...

Silverlock has learned to nap with her foster human, and dog. I am always afraid I will roll over on her, but she manages to escape that fate.


I need a foster for Dooley: Dooley's parents moved into a restricted condo for their retirement, and couldn't take Dooley. He is very laid back, UTD on shots, and neutered. How can you not love this?

I sleep well, which I am grateful for. I do not want to drink or cut. I draw more strength from my women's AA meetings then ever I did the mixed ones.

Max has become obsessive about the kitten. He defends her against all comers, read: the unicorn meat eating cats. As always, his heart will be broken when she leaves...

I absorb the silence this morning like the trees breath in the cold. The leaves turn on each tree, but not enough to see when you look at a mountain. I feel wild in this cool, like a horse does. I want to sun myself in the autumn day, while the squirrels pick frantically through the leaves. I cleaned the garden yesterday, with a look at putting in some winter cabbages. Their leaves turn scarlet against the cold.

All of my childhood memories rushed back on me, when I saw a yellow, and then an orange, chrysanthemum, as they hung over the golden leaves in a yard, yesterday. They are set off by the grass, which is still green. I know the field at the Old House will be golden now, and the night is cooler there. The turkey will be walking the paths around the House, as will the deer, heading for winter pastures.

The bear here has not appeared in several days, it's time for another appearance. The cats fatten themselves for the coming winter.

Scary

A blog post in the afternoon. Well. I feel like Queen Elizabeth is stopping by, and I am naked. We all have those dreams...

This morning was just too Halloween to be awake for...lots of rain, droopy orange and yellow flowers, and dripping trees. While that was enjoyable, and the day is lovely, the bear still raids the trashcans in the neighborhood. Eventually, she/he will hibernate...let's hope it's before Halloween night, when all the kids run around.

I binge ate last night, all night long. Just general anxiety. What's new?

I am happy to report the government shutdown hasn't affected this page...I don't know why, I just write here. I am here on 2 days of mood stabilizers, and hope it kicks in pretty soon. I seem to do well as long as I stay away from humans, but I just can't arrange that, forever. This day has turned into an 'isolation' day, where I don't have to look at anyone else, but fuzzy people.

So, right now, I will continue to peruse Facebook. Scary.

Short Day

The sky is pink and the air is foggy this morning. The bear has come and gone, and left fond tokens behind. The unicorn meat eating cats have been out since 3 hours before dawn, and I am up to talk to you. Grab some coffee.

The mere illusion of relief from my new mood stabilizer makes it a good day. I'm supposed to take it at bedtime, but took it as soon as I got the prescription in my hot, little hands, yesterday. It will take several weeks, I am sure, to take effect. I need it to work faster. I don't want to spend Halloween going through some haunted house in my own head.

The autumn kitten, Silverlock, grows like a weed. At 5 weeks, she seems like an adult, already. Such a change from the first day, when she reacted in horror to the dog. Now, they are inseparable. Tiny scratch marks run down my chest and back; I am Mt. Olympus.

It is Sunday, so I will keep this short. See you tomorrow.

Does a Bear Poop in the Woods?

It is very dry here, and the bear is still on the loose. What an upside down year this is! I am simply glad it is cool outside. The cats' window is open, and this morning, Ratty, the orange tabby sleeps on the bed with me. I think Max is beginning to understand about the bear...he no longer asks to be let out in the early evening. We did go out this morning, together, and had a wonderful view of the stars, in all their glory.

My post traumatic stress disorder, ptsd, has been triggered. I feel hunted. My stomach is the first system to go, and I deal with that, this morning. I no longer feel physically safe. I worry about my mental health, especially during this turnover time, with the abilfy leaving and the new medication starting. It is a miracle that I have managed to stay grounded this morning. I was not so lucky yesterday. But I did keep in touch with my therapist, by text, and my AA sponsor, and managed not to drink, or cut.

I must admit, I do let myself by distracted from my problems, by the sunshine, and the cooler days and nights. I feel a deep need to walk beside Tinker Creek today. The tops of the trees are on fire, and I want to be there to see them.

I feel too guarded to open my mind to the stars this morning, but I can see them; the skies are clear and a planet is out. I wait for the maple tree to catch fire, but it delays. It gets full sun, and doesn't want to admit the summer is over. The grass is fine, just as it is. It has not rained in a while, and I miss it.

Out there, in the woods, a bear goes to sleep, after a night of riotous living. The birds don't mind, they sing as always as the dawn sweeps over the tree line. It is a quiet morning, with the birdsong, and the tick of the golden clock on the dresser. Ratty and Max are with me, two notorious snorers, but make no sound. If I leave the door to my room closed, and just listen, I can fool myself into thinking it is early spring.

I have often thought, that I don't know what time of year I will die, but I hope it is Springtime. Fall will do in a pinch.

Usually I love the dawn, more than the sunset, but last night was an exception. The air was so clear and gray, and the grass so fine, and the sun so perfect, I stood outside with Max for a while. I remember a night spent floating under the stars, in the pool.

I will leave you here, with my uncollected thoughts, and hope to see you tomorrow.

Peaceful Puddle Place

I have no excuse for not writing this week, except the overwhelming nature of life. And the onset of situational and some seasonal depression. Let's face it, my motivation is around my ankles somewhere and I cannot reach them anymore. Also, for the first time in a good many years, I sleep through the night, now. And still take naps during the day.

I wake exhausted and rummage for food. Clean a bit, play with Silverlock and back to sleep we go. It's a shame I have to come out of mania just as my favorite season starts...the trees are turning the most marvelous colors.

I have been lazy about starting my new mood stabilizer, and it shows. But I do have this beautiful season. Yesterday, I bought a glittered pumpkin and put it out on a table. It's amazing what decorating for the holidays can do...at least for me. I love this month of apples, and pumpkins; of wild winds that blow from the north. A large flock of starlings encircled the parking lot trees at the AA meeting last night, and the group watched them in wonder, exclaiming at their songs, as we exited the church. How the earth still manages to enthrall us!

My therapist has come back from leave, and I did not know how much I would miss him, when I spoke to him yesterday, and almost wept. It is strange to think of my remote, frozen heart, still having unknown emotions. I am so good at lying to myself. The house I live in, is in chaos at the moment. I won't go into details, they don't matter. But suddenly I find I am at odds sometimes with a housemate I had counted as a friend.

Disagreeing with someone is one thing, but my peace is shattered at the sound of slammed doors and screaming. I don't really feel resentful or angry. I feel that I am being abused, in a physical and emotional way, and I have lived through too much to tolerate it. My boundaries are being stomped on, and I feel it in a very visceral way.

Of course, it triggers my post traumatic stress disorder, ptsd. I have to fight for balance with all the skills I have learned over the years, and my spiritual program. And now, there is a bear to consider as well. No more roaming about under the stars in the early morning. No more letting the dog out in the early twilight. I rarely watch the sunset now.

I do open the window for the unicorn meat eating cats, but it is much later in the morning. I know how fast bears can run, and black bears can climb. Georgia is a peaceful puddle at my feet.

May you find your peaceful puddle place today, and lie in the sunshine, while you can.

Later and Later

I know, I know, this is late. I woke with too little sleep and too much to do. Silverlock looks very wide-eyed being shoved into a crate, after a few hours of sleep on Current Mommy (Me). My prozac is stuck half-way down my throat, despite the coffee I pour on top of it, and the dog sleeps to get away from the frenetic kitten.

My tags are expired on my vehicle, I have no money for gas, and I wonder if I will be paid this week, with the government shutdown? The bear didn't hit the trash last night, the can is still upright on the walk. Silverlock takes an antibiotic for an upper respiratory infection, and I desperately need to vacuum the carpet, dust, wash some dishes, change the bed linens and try to come up with a pumpkin for one of my favorite holidays...

I need to do three loads of laundry, and yet, it's the time of year that I don't know where to put them when they are clean. Do I load them into storage bins now? Or wait several weeks? Do I wreck the storage room by turning out one of the winter clothes bins? Or just wait several weeks? Do bears eat pumpkins? Should I just try to get by on some jackets until November?

Will my dog be eaten by November? The pool is lovely now, and only a polar bear would swim in it. Do bears enjoy swimming pools? The zinnias are slowly dying, and only the dahlias and hydrangeas are doing well. Leaves just start to turn, and it is hard to take Max out in the mornings.

I am booked for the rest of the week. But I will see you here in the morning.