Muted anticipation
Although it won’t last forever, this autumn is going along quite nicely. New flowers in bloom in the yard (dandelions, but still flowers). There are three fox teens at play just outside our front door, although the hope is clear; food, for free. Be it dog biscuits or raw eggs, when your diet requires that you be both a hunter and a gatherer, meals with an open door policy are worth hanging around for. Don’t mind the dog. He’s too old to understand that more than a half-hearted lunge will be required to interrupt their particular game.
We’ve been admiring the new photos from family, showcasing the twins. Only one set in our extended family, as far as I know, so “the” is sufficient. Tiny, alongside their sibling. Even tinier, in the parental arms. This too shall pass.
Tonight marks the debut of the “mute button”, in presidential debates. Not required before 2020, because those involved had a minimum of decorum. Will I tune in? Not a chance. All of the highlights will be on YouTube in a couple of hours, along with pithy commentary from the majority of pundits. I can’t expect more. With voting already underway, and only a couple of weeks before D-Day (D for Democracy, and Democrats, and anything else that has a chance of restoring the pendulum to normal swings). Still to early to predict the winner. On one side, fair play. On the other, illegal tactics. May the best team win, etc.
We dodged a bullet, on our side of the border. No immediate need to drop the writ. Does anyone really want to face six weeks of “I wish winter would come”?
