You know, anytime someone wants to turn off the summer weather around here and let a few fall breezes blow our way, I'm fine with that. Really.
The only way I can tell we're in September is that the apple tree formerly-known-as-ours is bearing its usual biennial (or is it biannual) overabundance. While we miss being able to use all the apples, it is fun to watch someone else (as in our hapless buyer) deal with all the rotting apples and wasps in the front yard. The 90-degree weather isn't helping the smell much, either. He is looking a tad beleaguered, I must say. Laughing at him takes our minds off the fact that our backyard (now that we've demolished the fence) is starting to make the city dump look good. That shouldn't improve next week when we begin tearing down the deck. Why do things always have to get worse before they get better? Beats me.
Anna still hates me (in case you were wondering). Susie loves me, though, because I haven't bothered weaning her yet. And Larry makes sure to tell me he still loves me; because if I leave him, he's stuck with all these kids. He's nobody's fool.