First Frost

Well the frost is on the pumpkin

And the hay is in the barn

And pappy's come to rambling on

Stumbling around drunk

Down on the farm

-James Taylor, Walking Man

10.17.24

Up for going on five hours now, after driving Peg back down the hill from the condo.

The plan last night had been to drive the pickup to Cliffside, then swap and drive the little Mercedes SUV back down the hill after supper in case we want to go car shopping over the weekend. As we approached Bopple Hill Road, however, just five minutes from arriving there, we realized we had forgotten the keys to the MB. So we ate supper, built a fire in the fireplace (a wood burning fireplace in a condo--something of a novelty to two Floridians), and settled in for the night.

Of course, P still needed to be at work by 6:30 down here, which meant a 4:30 wakeup in Canandaigua, then down the hill under a full moon as Peg stole a last hour of sleep.

The valleys were filled with light fog, a canopy of clear skies above. I noted that it was 28 degrees most of the way, which reminded me that I'd forgotten to bring in Peggy's plants from the front porch yesterday. As we wound down the interstate, the temperatures rose just a hair and the cars and roofs were not longer covered in frost, so I'm hopeful I'm not too late to save the plants.

Arriving at Tara, Peg quick-turned through the bathroom to do hair and makeup, then left for work. I spent the next two hours in virtual tax class, learning the nuances of whether something is a capital asset for tax purposes, as opposed to ordinary property. Scintillating stuff.

Afterward I finally got to that chore of moving plants, leaving our front porch bare for the first time since the spring.

Meanwhile, our living room has become a wintertime cat jungle.

The frost also means we were too late planting pumpkins this year--we never got much past blossoms, and those are starting to wither as the fall chill takes hold. At least P got a couple little squashes from her planting in the late summer.

In a few minutes I'll make a list of everything I need to dictate today, and drive back up the hill to swap cars, dictating as I go so it's not financially ruinous. I'll bring this computer so I can briefly set up shop at the condo, bill for reviewing the morning's emails, then dictate my way down the hill to Tara. We'd talked about waiting until Peg gets off work and making another evening of it up there, but I'm feeling restless and dissatisfied and in need of a little road therapy. Maybe part of the way I'll put down the recorder and just enjoy the fall colors.

Hoping something good happens today, in the midst of the vocational parade of human misery that is the practice of law.