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It is quite foggy this morning; I can’t see the marsh which resides at the base of the hill outside the back window. I hope this passes as we have a flight today. Father sits next to me, wrapped Burrito-style in a large maroon blanket, listening to tunes which he randomly generates on ‘Alexa’. Yesterday I introduced him to Mary Chapin Carpenter, whom he likes. He’s still learning the name; in the mistakes Alexa generates songs sung by Karen Carpenter rather. Not the same thing.

Last night one of father’s law firm partners visited, a fellow whom he hasn’t seen in years. It was amazing to hear them reminisce about colleagues and cases from decades ago as if this all happened last week. I was glad to know Father’s memory is that sharp.

Last night the niblings carved their pumpkins, insisting they do it themselves. What came out was a collection of abstract concepts rather than any traditional faces. Personally I prefer the Old Masters. Warrior-Queen finished her artwork by leaving the carving knife in the side of her pumpkin. It was quite expressive but I worry.

Chicken report: The hens of summer are still nine in number. They are now molting, looking a bit down-in-their-luck for the look. I never cease to marvel at their ferocious appetites. There is not a scrap of food wasted, for they eat everything, including egg shells, meat, chicken meat (oh!). You name it they devour it. When let loose on the lawn they eat whatever maybe moving. On the positive this is good recycling. On the negative, the concept of ‘organic fed’ or ‘vegetable fed” chicken/eggs is nonsense. Speaking of eggs I’ve had some every morning which I eat with relish. I also had toast made from bread from the local bakery. I’m not supposed to eat the latter, so no more carbs for me for the rest of the week.

Around three o’clock Brother #3 drives us to the airport. Alas, Babylon! We get into PHX too late to pick up the pooch. She will have to spend another night at the Petsmart Hotel. At our end we have had no lack of dog. The two dogs here are black-holes of endless-emotoinal needs for attention. His family is thinking of skiing this January, so I guess that’s when I am next back to Michigan to tend dogs, cats, chickens, and Father who I hope by then has the two Carpenters figured out. I can only take so much of the first line “We’ve only just begun”.

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