Gary finally returned from the national forest after almost six weeks of camping. Like me, he has to adjust to his bed.
Rascal is in heaven with both of his people home. "Two laps, no waiting," he happily purrs. Even better, he knows that we will lose track of which of us has fed him, so he will get extra servings. The nosh situation has improved.
The weather is turning cold. By tomorrow night, we may well have frost. I'll pick all the tomatoes that are just beginning to turn red and put them on the ledge of the kitchen window to finish ripening. The last of the green beans are in the freezer. I want to dry some oregano tomorrow.
Now is the time to organize my winter writing projects. I am writing a book about my trip west. There's that novel to finish, too. I'm at the end of the second draft.
Getting back into the swing of writing is not all that easy. This blog has been good that way. It kept me at the keyboard over the summer, even when the sunniest days called me away.
Now it's time to get serious.
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