It occurs to me the Skullies have not made an appearance lately, so here they are, still guarding boxes.  They’ve been in a funk over the setbacks, like us, but keeping chins up.  Perhaps the YS brew helps.  Boat Show is a fresh, fruity IPA, recently released for distribution in cans.

Here are some homegrown herbs (basil and thyme) on the sill, and mums being purple.

Here’s us by E. (impressionistic), and what’s for dinner (locavore).  Cheers.

Autumn wildflowers like asters and goldenrod were in full bloom at Russ Preserve.  There were some fascinating fungi and old trees, as well.

We adjourned to YS and window-shopped.  This is a new faerie  shop.

Here’s HQ, the Tavern.  Mister Eko the Cat was actually awake at Dark Star books!  Here he is hanging out at the comics.  He wasn’t dead, he was just sleeping!  😉

These photos don’t even begin to capture the ethereal full moon sky last night.  (Also, making up for not posting yesterday.)

This morning, the rising sun was very strange, like a blood moon or weird eclipse, a bright red-orange orb in the dark sky, after wild thunderstorms last night.  Hopefully not a portent.  The photos don’t even begin to capture it.

Later, I mowed, which means more photos, and a beer!  Those couple of tomato plants are still putting out.

As befitting Labor Day, we labored up and down Clifton Gorge, admiring the pre-fall flower fireworks along the rushing river and Blue Hole.

Then we stopped at Peifer Orchards to partake in the first harvest of squashes, pumpkins, apples, etc., and the incredible marvel of the vast sunflower field, a major attraction each year.  Photos don’t do it justice.

Some pretty mums, and last but not least, a refreshing Kansas City IPA after all the “labor”…

Some things I’ll never understand, like why do the hillbillies have to spit all over our front steps?!  The same steps they sit on to text, their kids run barefoot on, and we have to maneuver around to get in and out.  There’s a whole lawn they could use, but no, it’s like a gob minefield.  It’s disgusting and unhealthy.  Seriously, someone please explain this repulsive behavior to me.  It’s uncivilized.

Late into last night the banging and slamming seemed even more escalated.  We had a moment of hope when one of their redneck friends loaded his truck with a mattress and other stuff from the apartment, and drove off, hopefully taking one of their scruffy co-habitators with him.  Maybe it’s too much to wish for, but we remain optimistic.

That’s why, when we finally find a tiny place of our own, with privacy and a garden we can actually use, it will be a luxury.  I’ll never take any little thing for granted again.  I’ll be heartbroken if my family is no longer there to live near, after all the hoping and striving, but life’s like that, I guess.  Karma.  I probably had it coming.  You can never control people or events, just make the best of the consequences.  That’s what living here has taught me.

This is why I make much out of small, mundane stuff, because when the big hopes and dreams fizzle and fade, as they inevitably do, it’s the momentary minutiae you’re left with in the end, that take on new meaning.  You start to appreciate every little thing you still have, for whatever time you may have left.  It hasn’t been easy to adjust my thinking and expectations in this way, but it’s the only way to adapt to reality and keep going.

So I spit on all the spitters of the world, and try not to let them get me down.  Their time will come.  All we can do is act right ourselves, and leave our fragment of the world better than we found it.  Unlike some.

People or things, by nature, will let you down and disappoint you; the trick is to become someone who can be counted on yourself, for better or for worse, and own the impact your own actions may have on others.  You can never undo or take back damage or regrets, just resolve not to repeat them or pass them down.  What others do is out of your hands.

Take it from me–I’m still learning this myself, after all these decades.  So I count myself fortunate to have the few dear people and basic necessities I still do.  Anything more is a bonus.

Outside, remnants of Hurricane Harvey have finally made it this far, with winds and rain.  I feel for the victims and survivors down south, and wish we had resources to help.  I hope the science deniers in power will get a clue before it’s too late for our planet.

Inside, spirits are dampened by families dear to me who are enduring their own inner storms and turmoil.  I feel for them especially.  I continue to hope for the improbable, that they will sort it out and find peace within their situations, for their children’s sake at least.

Erev cheers.