Today is chilly at 64°. It is supposed to rain most of the day, and the darkness of the day and the color of the clouds have me waiting for the first drops. I’ve decided to put the storm door on the back door as cold air comes in at night because I have to leave the door open for the dogs to go out. I can feel the chill all the way down the hall. Summer is truly gone.

My father used to spend a whole Saturday taking down the screens and putting on the storms which had been stored in the cellar. He needed a ladder. That, of course, scared us all. First he would climb the ladder and take the screens off the windows one by one. Next he’d carry a storm up the ladder. He had to hook it at the top of the window. That was the dangerous step because he needed both hands. The storms were heavy as the frames were wooden so we watched and waited. He never fell, so unlike my father. He moved from window to window then to both doors. Once the storms were on, we seldom opened a window as we had to hook it at the bottom so it would stay open just a bit. Besides, the inside windows were drafty even with the storms so we had air, cold air, and sometimes even frost on the inside window glass. I used to use my nails and write a message in the ice.

My dad was a football fan. Every week he watched the Giants, his favorite team as there were no Patriots back then. He was a screamer. If there was a fumble or an interception, he’d let the players know his dissatisfaction. He used to carry in dinner or snacks and eat while watching. His spot was on the side of the couch at the arm rest. It was beside a table on which he had a program guide, a holder for his glasses, an ashtray, a book he was reading and a filled candy dish, usually with Hershey’s miniatures. Sometimes he’d hide special candy under the couch. It was always right below where he sat so not so great a hiding spot. We all raided his candy. He’d eat his Hydrox cookies with milk. My father was a snacker.

I’m watching the Patriots mostly, but I’ll sneak looks at the Sox game. It is amazing that baseball’s regular season is coming to an end. I was standing on the deck the other day, and the air felt like autumn. No trees have changed yet, but that is coming. Summer is riding off into the sunset to mix a metaphor. Fall will soon hold sway.

The morning is fall at 63°. We have a bright sun and a mostly blue sky. I have chores. Mainly I have to vacuum. I can’t walk down the hall without hair balls flying into the air. This is a dusty house.

I found one of my political buttons, one I hadn’t added to the framed collection of buttons hanging in the hall. Those buttons are for democratic candidates going as far back as Kennedy. The one I found in the drawer was one I had picked up just to collect, never to wear. The button is huge, round, sort of the size of a small pancake. In the middle is a smiling Richard Nixon. That alone is scary enough. Around the button it says at the top, “Nixon’s The One.” At the bottom it says, “Nixon For President.” It is from the 1960 election. I remember getting the button at the Nixon political headquarters, a store front, in my town. I was in the eighth grade. It was the first election to which I not only paid attention but also favored a candidate.

In the eighth grade, we had a field trip to the Museum of Science. That was a big event as it was the first and only field trip we ever had. We were given a worksheet with several questions relating to the exhibits. It seemed daunting. I had the idea that my friends and I would divide the questions and then share our answers. Because the answers were right out in the open for the finding, we had no qualms. We completed the entire sheet. We even saved enough time we watch some of the events. I remember sitting on the floor and watching Spooky the Owl. I was amazed when he could spin his head and flap his wings on command.

When I was in high school, a few of my friends and I went to Boston to see the movie Cleopatra. I remember we all got dressed up for our trip to the city. We were chauffeured in town by the bus and the subway. We walked from the subway stop to the Music Hall, now the Wang, to see the movie. I was awed by how beautiful and fancy the theater was. It had chandeliers and murals on the walls and ceiling and private balcony seating along the sides. The ladies’ room even had regal red velvet covered lounges. I sat on one for a while luxuriating in the elegance. I’ve never been to a more beautiful ladies’ room.