- The lovely fall colors have migrated their way down from the northwoods to here. Today the bright leaves have a clear blue sky for a backdrop, with crisp fall temperatures.
- Joy and I walked Rose to school and then kept going, with me pushing her jogging-stroller along paths of a nature conservancy across from the school. We saw a hawk, a downy woodpecker, and two different groups of wild turkeys.
- Joy kept her mittens on purt-near the whole walk. It took some intentional distracting on my part, though. Mitten-removal has become a giggly game, to be embarked upon for the adult reaction. It will be less funny when the temps drop into the teens and beyond...
- It felt like the teens on Saturday morning as I huddled in my camp chair along with the other chilled parents on the sidelines of Rose's soccer game. I didn't dress her warmly enough for SNOW FLURRIES either. Was half expecting a mutiny, but she kept playing. What a trooper.
- Ordinarily I'd've sent JoyDad to the game, but I wanted the leverage to send him on a computer-buying mission (better him than me). Given the virus-munched state of our old (and yes, it's really quite old) computer, we really wanted to walk out of a store with a new desktop that we could set up right then. Except that Windows 7 is coming out October 22. So stores have no computers in stock, because they don't want to be stuck with a single CPU with the icky Vista operating system which NOBODY will buy once Windows 7 is out. Fortunately JoyDad ran into a friend in one of the stores who was willing to loan us a laptop.
- The virus-munched computer is supposedly ready to bring home from the computer hospital today. Now watch, we'll all catch H1N1 because some unfortunate sick tech coughed and sneezed all over it...
- Speaking of sneezing, a weird thing happened on the bus yesterday morning. I sit down, pull out my notebook, some gal (student probably) comes and sits next to me. And I start sneezing. Once, twice. Sniffle, grasp for tissues. Three, four, five. Nose and eyes both start running. Big ol' nose-blow. Six, seven. I don't dare make eye-contact with my seat-mate, but she's obviously starting to shift around and get uncomfortable. Eight, nine. Sniffle, snork. The bus slows at the next stop, she bolts out of the seat and flees to sit elsewhere. And... the sneezing stops. Apparently I am deathly allergic to certain fellow passengers. Who knew?
Ah, the random is strong today.