New Roof.

The giant blue barn behind us gets its today. We got ours last month. Every other house in the neighborhood, it seems like, has had unto it a new roof delivered. Ours was courtesy of May and June hail and Fay's fancy arrival in August. I'll chalk up everybody else's to damn near the same thing. Now comes the insurance premium jamboree. We'll see.

Unseasonable warmth, friends and fans of September and April, continues. Too much more of this and we'll see daffodils poking up. Probably not too late to plant pansies, to get bulbs in the ground so they can come up too soon, to maybe even squeeze one last round of greens out of the ground, if you're careful. If you've got a cold frame. If something.

In to work for yet another splendid faculty meeting and then back home to prime and paint and prime and paint: trying to finish every last little house project we can out in front of what looks to be a holiday season of vast insanity. Almost time to rake the yard. Almost time to go out back and pick up sticks. Almost time to cover over the exposed electric in the writing shed. Trimmed up the outside bathroom last night, dog on the guest bed supervising. We're about to need a lot of supervision around here, I do believe. Someone is going to have to be put in charge. What I know for sure: It shouldn't be me.