The sun is so bright that everything gleams. The yellow and red leaves on the trees in the backyard seem to pop in the light. The breeze is strong enough to rustle the leaves on the oak trees. It is 62°. It is a lovely fall day.

I have a few chores to finish including screwing in the final two screws on the dog door, putting out my Halloween garden flag and adding books to my little library. The front door screen will stay in for the meantime. I’m not in the mood to be frustrated.

My dance card has two events today. I have a uke concert, and I was invited to the class of 1985’s reunion. That was just about my favorite class. I’m going to go to both.

When I was a kid, my days and weeks were much the same, but I never noticed. I went to school the same time every day, ate lunch the same hour every day, played at recess then spent the rest of the afternoon in lessons. I went home the same time every day. I’d change into my play clothes and go outside, weather permitting. This time of year the darkness came early and triggered the street lights. We’d go inside. We knew what those lights meant. We’d watch TV while my mother made supper. I remember the windows by the kitchen table got steamy from the oven heat. My mother never left the kitchen.

Sometimes I had homework. I usually had work sheets. We almost never brought books home except at the beginning of the year when we had to cover them. We used brown grocery bags as book covers. I remember cutting the bags on the sides, laying them out flat then putting the book on the paper to cut out the cover. Almost everyone had grocery paper covers.

Yesterday I had coffee from Dunkin’ delivered, a free delivery. I ordered two cups of two different coffees, non flavored. The first cup was delicious. The second cup was not. It had coffee grounds. It was bitter. I figured it was the end of a pot, coffee poorly made and too long on the burner. Dunkin’, you really disappointed me. How shameful!

Give me a hallelujah! After the shuffling and moving of the stuff on the stairs including the heavy step ladder, the toting and hauling of the storm door window up the cellar stairs one step at a time, the four attempts before I got it in the door and the unscrewing and pulling out the dog door, I expected to hobble today. It didn’t happen. My leg is the best it has been. It took nearly 7 weeks. I can’t believe it. I even put the Tylenol away.