Today is a pretty day. It is also a cold and windy day. I have no plans. The dump can wait until Wednesday. I do need to water plants, my only chore for the day.

It must have rained a bit earlier this morning. The sides of the road were wet and there were drops on my paper’s plastic cover. I was surprised.

Yesterday’s concert went well. We had a good audience. I put my finger in the splint and Velcroed it to the next finger to help keep it still. It survived the whole concert, all two sets of it, but it did hurt by the time I was home so I left the splint off. My thumb got the worst of it. I used it to strum. The side of my thumb now has a blister.

I put more miles on my car this week than I have in a year. Two trips to Orleans for PT, a trip to Hyannis to see my doctor, a ride to Agway for animal food, a stop in Harwich for uke practice and yesterday’s going down cape to Eastham added up. I am not enthused. I do enjoy staying home. I am a sloth at heart.

This week I have only one PT and my uke lesson. We are starting our Christmas set. I hope my thumb heals.

I put a mid size pumpkin on my front steps. A bit back I noticed claw marks on it. I knew they were from a spawn of Satan. I then noticed a small hole then a larger hole and some pumpkins seed debris on the walkway. Yesterday the spawn was dining al fresco while sitting on the steps. I let him be. I let him enjoy this treat.

This morning I had an onion bagel and some bacon with my coffee. It reminded me of Sunday breakfast when I visited my parents. Sometimes we went out but mostly my father cooked breakfast. I can still see him in his grey flannel shirt, his khakis and a towel on his shoulder as he stood by the stove cooking. He always used the black cast iron skillet. First he cooked the bacon and then the eggs. He always asked what kind of eggs I wanted. He was a pro at eggs over easy. He never broke the yolk. I loved those Sunday mornings.

The frost is on the pumpkin, my windshield and the car’s back window. It is only 34° right now. I gasped a bit when I went to get the paper. It will get warmer, as high as 46°. That gave me a chuckle of sorts. It seems, given the season, I’ve lowered my expectations of warmer. I’m thinking flannel shirt and sweatshirt weather. I have a uke concert today down cape, Eastham, at the Turnip Festival. I’ll have to rewrap my finger and add the splint so I can play.

The dogs love this weather. They go out, do their business then come back in for a cookie. After that, they go back out again and stay out for a while.

Yesterday, I had groceries delivered. While I was bringing each bag into the kitchen, Nala, unbeknownst to me, was doing her own shopping in the bags. All of a sudden she was gone. She had disappeared. That is always a sign she is guilty of something. I went out and saw her prancing in the yard with the hot dog rolls in her mouth. She was carrying the bag by the top. I yelled for her to stop. She kept going. We did that for a while then she was gone again. I went in the house and checked upstairs. No Nala. I then noticed her on the couch with the rolls. They were fine, unopened without a bite mark. Good dog, Nala.

Tis’ the season for catalogues. I get several each day. I toss some right away as I haven’t any interest. Others I spend time with going from page to page hoping to find Christmas presents. I sometimes do.

The sunlight slants a different way in the fall. It seems to gleam. Tree trunks and leaves are almost highlighted. The sky is so very blue, a deep, deep blue uncluttered by clouds. Fall give us pretty days.