Today is chilly, fall chilly. The wind is strong. I can the chimes from my backyard. They have a sweet sound. The dogs are outside enjoying the weather. Last night they went wild. Henry leapt off the couch and moved quicker than I’d ever seen him. Nala followed. They barked at the front door then ran out the back. This went on for a while. I knew they had sensed a critter. Henry was protective. Nala was thinking prey. I opened the front door but saw nothing. This morning I checked, and the trash bag by the steps had been opened and a few things pulled out. The bag goes into the trunk today for my next dump run.

I can hear all of you scolding me, but I chose caution so you can save your scolding for another day. It all started yesterday when I noticed my ceiling light in the kitchen was too dim. I pulled out my old step ladder and placed it as close to under the light as I could. I climbed two steps. The ladder moved from side to side. Knowing my history, I took the movement as a warning and got off. I have another step ladder, a good one, a safe one, but it is heavy and was in the closet. I got it anyway. Changing the dead bulb was the worst experience, but here I am unscathed.

My father never let a lack of ability stop him from from trying to repair house problems. I remember when he worked on the toilet. Afterwards, my mother called a plumber who wanted to know who destroyed the insides of the toilet. He got shocked a few times when he tried to fix lights. When I was younger, he cut all his fingers on one hand trying to fix the fan. My favorite was when I looked out the window and saw him sitting on a branch and sawing it. I called my mother over to watch. My father was sitting on the wrong side of the branch. He was sawing himself out of the tree. He hit the ground, but it was only a little way below the branch which is why I didn’t tell him.

My dance card is fairly empty this week. I have uke practice and a lesson, and those are the only events. I do have chores, but I am of the mindset that chores can always wait.

The day is dark, and it is already raining though only a little rain so far, a spitting rain. The morning is warmish at 67°. The air is still. I’m staying home all day. I have a few things I can do around the house, but I’m waffling between being a sloth and being productive.

When I was a kid, the future was tomorrow except for the countdowns to special days like Christmas and Halloween. I had a regimen every weekday of school and after school play time. I never really complained. It wasn’t as if I had a choice. Besides, I liked school. Saturday was my day. It was anything I wanted it to be. Sunday was family day, staying around the house for Sunday dinner and maybe Sunday visits with family. The weeks were the same, but I was every kid.

I lived in a project, one with duplexes. We all had lawns, backyards and clotheslines. There were kids everywhere. I never really noticed we didn’t have much money. We had everything we needed. We had a few away vacations, but most were daycations to special places like museums and lakes and the beach. We went to the drive-in almost weekly. When I was 15 or 16, we went to Niagara Falls. That was our biggest vacation ever. I still remember my dad talking to a wax figure when he was trying to buy tickets to Madame Tussauds. He asked over and over, more impatient and louder each time. That is one of my favorite Dad stories.

I have fulfilled the childhood promise I made to myself, the one to travel, but my expectations back then were low. Traveling for weeks in South America and living in Africa for over two years never entered my head. I was thinking England. How lucky I have been.