never jump into a pile of leaves with a wet sucker

a week of insanity and more to come.



on a colder day we bought pumpkins and squash, crunchy not-too-sweet apples, and cider that tasted better this year than last. last year jude rode in my pouch and peeked out at the wind from beneath a hat, rosy cheeked and baby-eyed. henry ran around crazy and repeatedly dropped his pumpkin.



this year was sunny but sweater cold (or we'd not have gone).



jude ran from pumpkin to pumpkin saying, "oh, wow," and screeching screeches that were lost in the noise.


henry ran around crazy and pulled the wagon, pushed the wagon, filled the wagon with ugly pumpkins that i put back when he wasn't looking.



the fleas are dying like flies. dave has given detailed instructions involving the too-frequent vacuuming up of the flea corpses. every day i spend half an hour with the shop-vac.

after a nightmarish vacuum kerfuffle involving the turned-on vacuum (newly purchased in july) at the upper landing on the stairs, the hurried jump down the stairs to unstick the extension cord from beneath the door, and the subsequent unfortunate jerking of the cord that pulled the new vacuum, still whirring, down the stairs opening up at the half-way mark spewing the wretched contents of the vacuum over the steps, railing, doors, horrified woman, shoes and turtle step-stool, then screaming at a frighteningly high pitch and letting out a horrible burning metal odor, we have purchased a new shop-vac. i need one that straps to my back. happily i am the lucky winner of a husband who does not scold nor shame his spastic wife for her irresponsibility but instead says, "it's just a vacuum." i don't deserve such grace.

october brings to our yard a leaf fantastic. when henry was falling asleep this afternoon he looked out of the window and said, "the leaves are turning orange," and yawned. i'm happy he's a noticer of orange leaf turnings.