November 1st

I could talk about the upcoming Election Day and all the drama that will ensue. I could talk about a woman in our area who wants to know if the security company that roams our neighborhoods is going to beef up security in case Biden wins the election and the ANTIFA and all other liberals in the world come crashing into her neighborhood and loot/burn/murder her and everyone around her (seriously, lady?) I could talk about people not wearing masks at all or wearing them incorrectly (having  a mask "protecting" your throat is not going to help anything - coronavirus doesn't attack throats, until you get COVID-19. Trust me.) I could talk about the stunning full moon shrouded by clouds in the western sky that I saw this morning when I picked up my Sunday paper waiting for me on my driveway. I could talk about two neighborhood cats who came trick or treating last night dressed as -- cats: their "costumes" didn't trick me; I knew who they were (and, yes, they did get treats.) I could talk about being tired of working and wanting to be retired but I didn't save any money because I thought I would be long gone before the idea of retirement even showed up on my horizon. I could talk about eating yummy pumpkin spiced marshmallows, but I won't because they're not healthy for you (uh huh). I could talk about wanting to lose a few pounds but those pumpkin spiced marshmallows are calling my name. I could talk about climate change, hurricanes, wildfires, snow storms, floods, hot sunny days in November, rain rain rain, politics, pandemics, zombies, guns, getting old, being young, living crazy, mountain climbing, off-grid living, peace, war, art, animal lives, and a whole lot of other stuff . . . but I'm not gonna.