So now it's getting to be chilly. The dresser where I throw the daily sweater still works, but this would be the perfect time to stop procrastinating. Although to a professional procrastinator, later is, of course, always the better time.
My transportation has developed a problem, so I actually had to walk today. Wore a sweatshirt instead of a sweater, though it would seem the point of either would be to make me sweat. I didn't though, and my nose was even a little red when I stepped back into the house.
The walk, meanwhile, was fascinating. It's Thanksgiving, so many driveways were overflowing. I heard laughter and curse words spoken out front. The sun was in my eyes, but I imagined beers in hand. Then the old lady raking, raking, raking. I wondered if she had a coatrack or a family. I wondered if there wasn't some tree-related neurosis involved. But her yard was clear by the time I passed it again. She was busy with what would be the roses if it were my house, but I didn't really look close at what she had there. She still had the rake though.
I smell things, burning leaves, different-I'm-not-sures because I really couldn't pin a name on a vague street scent any more than I could pin a tail on a mouse. Especially not a wireless mouse.
I keep hearing doors slam, vehicle doors, signs of folks coming and going while I sit here the rest of the hazy day. But here's to that, families being families, gotta have a place for things.