2:45 am: The night is noisy. A little bit ago, the dogs and I went out. While they mingled in the yard, I stayed on the deck . I could hear all the night insects, the crickets and the katydids. My back yard lit up when Nala ran by the lights which are mounted on the back of the deck. They shine on the open ground. The trees are in shadow. I can see the dogs almost anywhere in the yard when all four spotlights have been triggered. Sometimes when I go to bed the lights are still on. The yard looks pretty at night. The lights stay on about ten minutes after the dogs come in. Sometimes I am surprised when everything goes dark in a blink.

This morning I had an English muffin. It took a while to brown. Toast takes less time. I watched through the toaster oven window and cheered when a small bit of brown showed up on the round edge. The muffin is from a local company. It has no ridges, but it has great taste. I had to use the toast prongs to take the hot muffin ends out of the toaster. I slathered them with butter. I was out of fig. (I apologize for this boring paragraph. Seriously, who wants to hear about an English muffin browning, except Simon and Garfunkel, “Wish I was an English muffin, ‘Bout to make the most out of a toaster, I’d ease myself down, Comin’ up brown.” They’d have liked my muffin, but I have no boysenberry.)

The wind is strong, and I can hear the creaks of the pine branches when they sway. Thunder showers are predicted for later. Of course they are. The day is dark. The sky is a single white cloud. The warm air, in the mid 70’s, is getting thick, more humid. The saving grave is the breeze from the window behind me, from the north.

When I was a kid, I’d cross the open field below my street both to and from school. On some days, the wind, as I crossed that field, was terrific. I loved it. I’d face the wind and spread my arms out straight hoping to fly, sort of to helicopter or even to kite it into the sky. Sometimes I moved backwards quickly blown by the wind. It was exhilarating. My mouth was open in joy. It didn’t matter much to me the direction of the wind. Either I’d be blown backwards or I’d have to fight the wind straight on with my head down as sort of a battering ram (okay, that last simile might too much. If so, I apologize.) Anyway, I loved walking in the wind, one way or the other.

Today I’m home for the duration; nothing is going on. I am having friends over for dinner this weekend so I’ll plan my menu tonight. I’m leaning toward sea food, maybe a boil or a paella. It’s been months since I last had company so I want to put my best foot forward (similes and cliches! Yikes).

The dogs woke me up this morning when they chased each other and jumped on my bed to eat each other’s heads while politely growling. I kicked them off a few times, but it continued. I gave up and went downstairs. Both Henry and Nala are having their morning naps, one in here and the other in the hall. The child in me wants to wake them, rudely, but the adult in me prefers to have them sleeping and sleeping they’ll stay, at least until dinner.

Today is another delight. The breeze is making the current 78˚ feel cooler than you’d expect. The sun was here earlier but has disappeared. I guess the clouds figured partly sunny, today’s weather report, means they get some sky time. I have to go out for a quick errand today. I’m also going to buy some mums. I have a pumpkin already on the steps but a mum is essential for fall decorating.

Nala has become a naturalist. She brings in small pine branches still with pine needles. She brings in pine cones of various sizes. Today it was a big one. Yesterday the pine cone was tiny. Anyway, she now tears apart the pine cones and rips the pine needles off the branch, always in the house. She doesn’t eat them. She does it for the fun of it. I vacuum. It is never fun for me.

This morning I got distracted and forgot to turn on the coffee. I put in the water, the filter and the fresh grounds then went and put some trash by the car for a soon to be scheduled dump run. That interruption was enough for me to forget the coffee. I sat down to read the papers and shortly thereafter wondered why the aroma of coffee was not wafting through the house. I went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee.

My grandmother, the one who couldn’t cook, had been born in 1898. The changes she saw in her lifetime must have been mind boggling. I have pictures of her when she was young, maybe early 20’s. In some of the pictures she is standing with her sisters and in other pictures with my future grandfather. I don’t know all that much about them. I did meet all of my grandmother’s sisters, her brothers and her mother, my great grandmother, when I was young. My grandmother was tall. My grandfather was not. She stooped. I remember her wearing day dresses, thick heeled shoes and stockings. She had a wire cart she pulled behind her to the First National three houses away at the end of her street. Those grandparents lived in the same town we did, but we didn’t see them much. My father did. He dropped by usually on a Saturday. I do remember dinner there one Thanksgiving night when I was young. They had a dining room filled with furniture, all of it heavy and dark. I remember one low hutch across one wall, doors to the yard on another and a cabinet on the third. Despite how little time we spent there, I can still see every room up and down, including the cellar, in my mind’s eye. As for my grandparents, I remember them less and less each year.