October & O'Hara

Another month has been greeting us with its chilly winds and hopeful season ahead, and we're embracing it with mini pumpkins on sticks and candles that smell up the whole house with nutmeg and cologne. We're getting in shape over here, we're making soup over here, and we're all "working for the weekend," even if some of us don't really even have weekends. There has been less TV and more porch times-- these filled with Miley buns, novels both long and short, organ aches, falls, and a failed quest at meeting more neighbors.

Barrett says 'puppies' perfectly, the government decided to cool its jets for a while, and we're really hoping to boost our Scrabble skills with 5 & 6 letter words. One day we'll start tallying the scores for the Ultimate Champion, but for now, let's just try to remember that walking around City Heights with a Scrabble board in hand is the true way to make new friends. 

A fistful of moments (a lot of them): 

 

 

 

 

 

A day in North Park followed by a rest in South park | dinners of soups, potatoes, and salads, and a breakfast of baked pumpkin french toast | not many guests, but a few that matter most | a little glimpse at home as it is forever changing | and, as usual, the great life of Barrett sprinkled throughout. 

September brought me a beautiful appreciation for the banality of dailiness, and the routined weeks sped by, but the steadiness was comforting. And now, here we are--onto the next one, I say! Soon, I'll be thinking about wrapping paper, yet 75 degrees on the coast reminds me that San Diego is in limbo, and I think some of us can resonate with that.  Routine is a comfort, but it's also a terror, and I am constantly battling against the feeling of wanting more and hoping for simplicity. 

And on a completely unrelated note, here's some pretty O'Hara. Partly because I can't stop listening to this, and partly because I love his hairline: