The full moon would have been a while ago. Last night was as black as can be.
The fall keeps lingering, lovely, on. Lots of the gold is gone but more remains. I must get a picture of my beautiful rose. The leaves are golden and there are still blossoms, not as many but a more intense pink than in June.
James painted the striped kitty recently.
Skeeter comes in at length now. She has even spent the night on occasion. Little by little we are charming her. Of course she has us completely beneath her spell.
My hand is healing but it is taking longer this time and I am feeling impatient.