Kicking off November with a handwritten letter to see if I can still write:

and I can, and did.

Old man Dix lives.

The letter went, or will go - it's now posted on the mailbox for pick-up - to near equally old Susanne in Random Lake WI.

The neighborhood sees no smashed pumpkins that I can perceive out that sunny window behind me, nor spied when I went out int the backyard and looked up and down Colton St.

It is brightly sunny at 43 degrees presently. A survey of the dying garden areas has ths nasturtiums still blossoming bravely and the mum in the Maytag is still going temporarily strong.

Chatting with Dee this morning she told me of a walk-in young man at church yesterday who wanted to ask about the book of Revelation. Dee was telling me about the goodly time she rendered and what she said. The troubled fellow was frightened, and who isn't these days?

I need to fill the chickadee feeder today.