Home at the Kiddie Corral

It's a pretty typical day, not that I really believe in the existence of typical days. Anything could happen because the day is still young. It's lovely outside but finally getting cooler just in time for Halloween.

Today is the 4th Tuesday of the month. I was in a writing group that met on the 2nd and 4th Tuesdays for years. I've been a member for almost 9 years but, sadly,  the group ran its course and became redundant. I tried to find someone else to take over, hoping the group just needed a fresh perspective and some new energy, but there are no takers. I'm going to miss all of the interesting people who participated in TFW and hope they succeed in their lives and in all of their writing endeavors.

I saw the sunrise this morning.

"Be a lamp, a lifeboat, or a ladder."

Rumi

The annual pilgrimage of lady bugs to our bedroom is almost over.

Stay-at-Home Weekend

It's never been this warm so late in the year the years I've lived in Colorado. It's been downright balmy this fall. The extra warmth has allowed us to get almost caught up and ready for winter. It felt good to finish painting the fence. (We started on the fence project a year ago in the spring-and it's not much of a fence) It's going to be 20 degrees cooler today so I'm guessing the party is about over.

The Books of Mystery

I drive Highway 287 six hours a week at a minimum. It's the prettiest commute I've ever had, but it helps that I like looking at farmland and the mountains. About a month ago, 3 or 4 books were flapping in the wind in the median just before Lafayette. I thought a student might have forgotten his or her books on top of their car, or maybe a box fell off the back of a truck during someone's move. But that wouldn't explain why there were a few more books the next day, then a couple more. Now the books are gracing the road's no man's land for about a half mile stretch. Some books are belly up, with brown pages blowing back and forth like an invisible thumb is flipping through the pages. Others have a fresher look and seem intact. Today is the first day I've seen loose pages blowing around.

This picture doesn't show the real number of books, but it was the best I could do.

I'm having a real hard time not going back, at some low-traffic time, to read the titles. I really, really want to know what these discards are all about.

Insomnia

The sheets tickle and itch. I'm hot then cold. Giving up all hope of sleeping, I head downstairs. I finished my book around 9:00 or I'd be happy to have some quiet time to read. The house is cold at this time of morning. I hear the cat eating her dry food. She'll probably go back up to bed and leave me to my exhausted yet wide-awake state.

My original plan was to go to the Black Hills with a friend this weekend. The weather has been looking good in the west, and chances to go on a snow-free road trip are about to become scarce. I had reservations at the Custer Mansion in Custer, South Dakota. The reviews were all over the place, with most of the complaints directed at the behavior of one of the owners, Bob. People either loved their stay or hated it. The off-season price was certainly good, and no one complained about the food at this B & B. But, sadly, my friend's mother became extremely ill on Thursday night and is still in the hospital. My own mother fell this week and broke her clavicle. My mother is home, being cared for by family, but my friend's mother is still in the hospital. These worrisome things happen and must be dealt with.

A train is approaching. The horn has a strange echo to it tonight. The cat is sitting at my feet, confused because we're downstairs. I wish it was the kind of world where a person could safely go for a walk alone at night. I used to do that sort of thing when I was 18 and living in Turlock. I lived above a beauty shop in the little downtown area, and enjoyed walking past the closed stores late at night. I was never afraid back then.

Almost 2 AM. The traffic is picking up outside. There are several late-night places on Main Street and it's Saturday night. In the summer, I enjoy hearing voices through our open windows as people walk home after an evening downtown. Not so many walkers now that the temperature is dropping at night.

Looks like I'm not going to be sleeping anytime soon.

In an October Rut

I'm in a rut, and not the deer kind. I'm so busy with the details of life that I fear I'm missing the bigger picture. If busyness is a virtue, then I'm damn virtuous.

A friend met a crow in Yellowstone.

The Sun Also Rises!

Pick a book and read!

No real explanation for this.

Even crows have mothers.