It Must Be Monday.

I was late leaving the house for class this morning because OilMan had put a new battery in my garage door opener and forgotten what he did with it. When I finally pulled out of the garage, it was 7:40, still dark and the neighbor, who has a horror of leaves was blowing her driveway with a very loud blower.

I was even later to class because of a large truck...too large to make a tight corner... trying to shoehorn itself down a narrow lane. It had come to a total stop across the main road blocking the entire thing in both directions. Nothing to do but sit there while the driver and his passenger conferred and ran around. We're a pretty patient lot here in a town which is being cleared and rebuilt and is full of trucks, but I was still late, and ready for coffee at Acre afterward.

I was pleased to find a nice table in the sun outside the coffee shop.  A hyper indulgent mommy/grammy/nanny sat on a bench near me with her charge, a very appealing little curly headed boy who told me his name was Émile and that he was two. His m/g/n was reading to him in a VERY LOUD VOICE as if the poor little chap was deaf and not just little, but he soon lost interest in the book and started running his truck (presumably a firetruck judging from the loud shrieks emanating from his angelic little face) along the wall. M/g/n kept up a running commentary from where she sat, even informing all and sundry (whether they cared or not) that the truck's name was Gerard. I was feeling distinctly ungracious. I Don't suppose she could help the fact that she had a voice like a bullhorn, and the little fellow was just having a good time with his truck. Nonetheless, I quickly finished my coffee and set off in search of a Halloween image.

Quel horror ...who should I come upon but a man putting up Christmas decorations....He sensed my presence and turned around and glared at me. I didn't stick around to see if he was in a bad mood because it was Monday, because I was taking his picture, or because it wasn't even Halloween yet and he was putting up Christmas decorations.

When I got home the neighbor was still blowing her driveway...or maybe her roof.

Things improved when I drove to Sonoma for the third time in as many days to purchase one more pillow to complete the mini-remake of our living room. Everyone in the shop where I bought the chair knows me now, and they were welcoming and pleasant. It's not exactly a Halloween image (although I think the eyeball light on the wall qualifies) but I did get a kick out of the newly assembled antelope/stembecco shaped bookcase from Paris. See extra