After the excitement of last night, we had a very slow, simple, gentle day. I slept a lot during daylight, having slept little at night.

Tim gardened, a little. Moving around compost to make room for the leaves, soon to come.

I read, in bed. For myself, Edible Brooklyn, and a stack of The New Yorker, delivered by Tim's mom.
And to Anna. Do you know Shirley Hughes? The Alfie stories? Dogger? So good. I feel that even Anna is moving on from them a bit, but I'm not over them yet.

I baked some more bread, to bring across the street at dinnertime.
I moved some laundry around, not really accomplishing all that much.
Perfect.

Finally, I walked outside with my camera, on the way to pay last nights' sitter. Even with boots and socks on, I was still chilled right through by the time I made it over the creek and across the park.

I looked up and took these pictures. I looked down and took some more. Then, I dropped my lens cap through the sewer grate.

I needed to get outside, look around, get chilled. Make a mistake. Take some pictures.

I'm ready to move into the new week. I hope you are ready, too. For whatever awaits us all, around the next bend.

More tomorrow. Thanks for reading.
tt