Today is pretty but cold. The wind is blowing all the tree limbs and the hanging leaves. I’m wearing my sweatshirt, an essential part of my fall wardrobe.

Lots to do today. Friends are coming to dinner. The shopping is crossed off the list. The house, still on the list, is in capital letters. It needs a bit of a touch up. The dust is swirling. The kitchen floor is a map of dog tracks.

Nala will steal anything. The house is not safe from this marauder. Yesterday it was two dolls out of my room, one from Ghana and one from my childhood. Today it was naan. She ran outside onto the deck, with her booty in her mouth, but she dropped the bread, but when I yelled. She tried to grab the package again, but that slowed her down. She ended up with only the cover. I got the bread.

I was contemplating putting a gate across the stairs, but Henry would be the victim. My bedroom is his solitude. He takes naps on my bed. The beastie usually stays downstairs.

Henry had his own issues last night. He threw up several times, the poor boy, but today he is fine. I guessed it may have been all the shots the day before. I was getting ready to take him to the emergency vet, but he stopped being sick and went to sleep. I breathed.

When I was a kid, my parents didn’t entertain much. The house was too small, but when they moved off cape, they bought a perfect house for entertaining. My mother threw epic parties. One of my favorites was the D-Day party celebrating the 35th anniversary. My mother decorated the dining room with maps of the landings. On the TV the movie The Longest Day played during the whole party. In the kitchen, songs from WWII played, and the crowd sang along. My family was big for singing in the kitchen, never the living room. People were scrunched together on the kitchen benches. The bar was on a small counter next to the fridge, handy for ice. The food was only a few steps away in the dining room. It covered the table. I think I remember the table groaning.

This morning I woke up early, early for me anyway. It was just nine. The sun was shining in a clear sky. It is nearly two hours later, and the clouds have taken over the sky. The wind is blowing. Rain is predicted for this afternoon and evening.

The last of the flowers have bloomed in my garden. I don’t know what they are, but I always look forward to their blooming. I always think of those flowers as the last kisses of summer.

Yesterday was a banner day. I made it to the dump, and the two guys that always help unload my car were there. One took out all the bags of cans and newspapers and all the empty boxes stacked in my backseat. He marveled at the number of boxes. Next I stopped at the trash receptacles. My guy was there, and he unloaded my trunk mostly filled with heavy bags of used cat litter. I drove home with an empty car. I went to my little library next and did some housekeeping. I arranged the books, sent the bugs scurrying, added a Halloween decoration to the window and left some bookmarks I had bought. The library was full and most of them were books added by my fellow bibliophiles. I took one.

The last afternoon miracle was after I was outside on the deck with the dogs. I looked down into my yard, and the area closest to the deck looked like a vacant lot in the city. Nala had brought all sorts of paper outside and torn it apart. Some papers had been there since before the last rain. I lost it then and went into the yard and cleaned up all the papers. The toilet paper she had torn apart last week was stuck to the ground and the driveway by the rain. I admit I cursed a little.

I talk out loud to the dogs, to the TV and to no one. As of yet, only Nala has answered me, and she was not happy.

When I was a kid, the plans for Halloween started early. My friend and I would discuss costume choices while we walked to school. She usually bought a costume from Woolworth’s. Those costumes were worn over your clothes and tied in the back. The masks were hot to wear and ugly. The elastic holder on the masks snapped easily. We never had store bought costumes. They were expensive for four kids, but I didn’t mind. My mother was creative. If I came up with an idea, she came up with a costume. Over the years I was a ghost, a hobo, a witch and a cowgirl. Mostly I didn’t wear a mask. Instead, my mother put make-up on me befitting my costume choice. As for our goodie bags, they got bigger as we grew. My last few goodie bags were pillow cases. I dreamed of candy over-flowing my pillowcase, but that never happened. I’m still a bit disappointed.