A chilly November day with a mix of sun and cloud, actually what you might expect at this point in the calendar. Taking advantage, we did one last leaf cleanup in anticipation of snow—the forecast for the coming week suggesting a return of the polar vortex (which is different from polartec goretex, btw).

The rosemay bush, which is now three or four years old and looking scraggly, has been sitting outside these past many weeks, under the eve and next to a stone wall so as not to be frost bitten; but it will have to come in now. And the hose and hose-reel will have to be drained and stowed in the under-garage bsement. Winter is coming. The big question: will it be like the last one? Will we be vortexted?

As I was working on the leaf situation Pax was patrolling the property. Then neighbor Vi had company arrive, and Pax, a natural-born greeter, went to greet them. (He knows the diffference between people who are nice and welcome and people who are not.) Anyway, when he finsihed schmoozing the bunch of old ladies I called him home. And that resulted in one of his flying leaps up the 3-foot concrete wall between Vi and us. Pax miscalculated and landed badly.

Another leg blown, I thought. But a couple of hours and a nice raw egg later, he was back to his old self and we took a fast, though chilly, bike ride/run to the prairie.

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Sometime you can only know that you have seen something after someone else tells you what you saw.

— Mathew Stewart