a temporary cool-down

September is the month when your blood needs to adjust to cooler temps. That first shock of relatively cool air at night (low 40sF or 6C) will come tomorrow and stay with us through the weekend. And frankly, I'm feeling it a bit of it even now, as I chase the sun around the table again at breakfast time.

I'll get used to this and of course much much colder air currents, but the initial plunge always chills me the most. As I said, my blood hasn't adjusted its own internal thermostat.

The morning walk -- no snipping, no weeding, just animal care and a glance at the fading autumn flower fields.

Then I sat and hoped for rain. My wishes were not granted, which unfortunately dooms me to water Steffi's yard yet again, but I put that off for another day. I'm in a slow mode this morning. My big event was that a guy came back to talk about branch removal of trees that are working their way into the power lines at the side of the road. Madison Gas and Electric does the tree trimming on their tab but he wanted to discuss my options and since Ed was not there, I basically gave him free reign to not only cut down branches, but to take down two trees -- a black walnut and a Russian Olive  -- that have menaced other trees and my flower beds for too long. That's what happens when you go off sailing, leaving the home base in your hands of your sweetie who has long complained about the proliferation of trees on farmette lands!

And now it's time to pick up the kids.

I tell them -- no treats en route to home today! Once or twice a week is more than enough. They beg. I cave. French fries from Culvers it is. (Is it a surprise that the car smells of fries and ketchup?)

(the old pear tree has been raining pears all around my car...)

Evening. I cook fish. The cats are happy. I need the protein! 

I had in mind a quiet set of hours. Maybe a comedy to watch, a couple of pieces of chocolate to munch. Feet up.

And then I hear that telltale meow. If you have an outdoor cat sharing space with you, you'll have heard it too. It's an announcement. That they're bringing you a gift.

Dance has been crazy with her benevolence this past week. She has brought in a chipmunk. A mouse. And today -- a very large and very lively frog.

Do you know how high those amphibians can jump??

Dance always leaves her traumatized gifts squarely in the middle of the living room. Oftentimes they look dead, but it's all merely to fool everyone. You go near them and they suddenly revive and run like crazy. This frog leapt so high and moved so far that I was sure I would be chasing it for the rest of my waking hours today. But I got lucky. Eventually I found an Amazon box within reach and the frog got caught in Prime Time delivery wrapping. 

Now let's go back to the idea that it's a quiet evening, with maybe a comedy streaming and a few chocolates within reach...

and love...