There is so much I could tell you about all the meetings I go to, but it wears me out to think about it all again. I don't even tell Mr. Troutbend very much about what's going on with the flood recovery efforts aimed toward obtaining funding.

He's out there in Las Vegas bowling in his three leagues, and every time he bowls, he sends me an email to tell me how he did. Sometimes an email comes in that shows how all the teams bowled, and I look at that.

I have been doing the fall chores around here, putting the garden hoses away and digging the garden plants into the soil to do some composting. The plants didn't freeze, they got tired of trying to live in the lessened sunlight available.

While I was away last week the wind blew so hard it knocked the wind chime down and broke it. It was a wedding gift to my dad and his second wife back in 2001, and I liked it because it wasn't very loud, and required a pretty good breeze to make any noise. But when it did ring, I knew something was going on out there. It's not a big deal to lose it, but causes a little pang of regret: one less thing to remember them by. I replaced it with one from the garage, and I'm waiting for some wind to see if I like how it sounds. It's more or less outside the bedroom windows, so if there is any wind in the night, we have to like that chime. I usually take them down in the winter, anyway, so it's not going to be up for very long.

Here's what the river looks like today. The leaves on the bushes are late to turn, but will get to the bright golden yellow point one of these days.