Late Fall

Another in a series of lovely Fall days with mild temperatures, clear skies, and colorful foliage, some of which have descended from their precarious perches to blanket the roads and lawns along my hour-long, three-mile walk up the hill and back.  It being Sunday morning, the route was only mildly trafficked, a few cars, a couple of bicycles, and only two or three pedestrians.  Accompanying me on the walk was Garrison Keillor and his Prairie Home Companion, which I listen to on National Public Radio on weekends as faithfully as I do the Newshour with Jim Lehrer on weekdays.

Yesterday my wife and I attended the annual general meeting of our social club.  It was an all-day affair that included a so-so lunch of overcooked chicken and ribs.  The meeting went off well, without major incidents or the heated dialogue that had in prior years been a defining feature of such meetings.  The main topics discussed were the the ongoing saga of a recently acquired property that was to be refurbished into a suitable clubhouse, the raising of annual membership dues, and a somewhat premature move to integrate several chapters of the organization into a larger entity.  Nothing of any significance was accomplished, which is about the way such events have devolved in the past.

At a dinner party to celebrate the birthday of their sixteen-year-old cousin, we saw our two granddaughters as we had hoped we would.