Today is filled with sun though a bit cooler than it has been, but it is fall and cool weather is the usual. When I let Henry out earlier, I could hear my neighbor’s blower clearing the leaves and pine needles which fell during the rain storm. Lawns are hidden and everything else is covered. Even the street has a layer of pine needles all along its sides. This is a bit like Saturdays when I was a kid, but back then I’d hear the scrapes of rakes not the intrusion of blowers.

People are decorating for Christmas yearning for colors and bright lights, for something to hold on to, for something familiar, for tradition, expectations and hope. Count me among them.

Yesterday 10 turkeys were wandering up my street from the pond where they sometimes roost. They got to my front garden and started nibbling. One of them got behind the fence and started eating, a yellow light bulb, an unlit yellow light bulb. Across the street my neighbor came out and used his cane to scare the sole turkey off his lawn. The turkey ran across the street to his brethren, to the refuge of my yard. The crowd moved on shortly after that.

My friend Peg called yesterday and we talked for an hour. We laughed for an hour. She caught me up on life in New Hampshire and told me about the deer in her garden. Peg was outside and near, but the deer didn’t move. Peg spoke softly and watched the deer who didn’t mind. It finally bolted into the woods as deer do. They always look spooked to me, graceful but still spooked.

The fall display in the pot on my front steps has finished its best life. The pumpkin on the brick in front of the display has been nibbled. There are bite marks all around. That needs to go. The pumpkin in the display is okay, but the gourds artistically placed around it are rotting. I’m not even sure I want to touch them.

I am inured to most smells, as in odorous smells, and sights. I don’t even notice most times, but rotting gourds gross me out. It’s weird.

The rain has continued but barely. It’s only spitting rain as my mother used to say. My front garden, the deck and the driveway are covered in wet, brown leaves. Even the street has a layer of leaves. The weather report calls for rain on and off all day. I won’t complain. I like the rain, and the Cape is still in drought conditions.

When I was a kid, I didn’t count the days until Thanksgiving. It was a minor holiday in the ranked echelons of kids’ holidays. We got time off from school and ate a massive dinner Thanksgiving dinner but that was it.

My father used to go with his father to the local high school Thanksgiving Day game. My dad had no allegiance to the school, but he loved the tradition of Thanksgiving football. The rest of us stayed home and watched the parade.

Jack is lying on an afghan behind me on the couch back. He is lightly snoring. Henry chased poor Jack today. The cat waddles and escaped only because he got to the area in the den where Henry has never gone. That’s crazy too. Just last week Henry went to opposite end of the couch than where he sleeps. That was a first. Henry is not adventurous.

Henry welcomed Lee and Rosana, my cleaning couple, yesterday at the door. They are biscuit givers. They love him and have tried over and over to make friends. They finally did yesterday. Henry barked at their car in the driveway. He barked when they got to the door, but when they came in, he went right up to Lee and sniffed. Later Lee patted and scratched Henry’s head and neck. I’m happy as Lee and Rosana are the only people, other than people like Skip who come and go, that Henry has seen since March. He and I have limited social circles. Actually, his is bigger than mine.