By Judith Viorst
The tires on my bike are flat.
The sky is grouchy gray.
At least it sure feels like that
Since Hanna moved away.
Chocolate ice cream tastes like prunes.
December’s come to stay.
They’ve taken back the Mays and Junes
Since Hanna moved away.
Flowers smell like halibut.
Velvet feels like hay.
Every handsome dog’s a mutt
Since Hanna moved away.
Nothing’s fun to laugh about.
Nothing’s fun to play.
They call me, but I won’t come out
Since Hanna moved away.
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It was over 70 degrees on the first day of November, and I was having a lovely afternoon, having stopped by a local jewelry store that's closed permanently as of this evening after being around nearly all my life, and having bought the last sesame seed bagel at Goldberg's, when I went to the park to take a walk and took a swing in front of the stadium to do a Pokemon raid...where I grazed the curb where it sticks out around the sewer and got a flat tire. Arrgh! AAA came and put the spare on so I could drive the van to get it replaced.
Because of that interruption, I did not get a bunch of things done that I intended to do, though any day one scores Alex & Ani copper from the Statue of Liberty for under $10 must be accounted a good day anyway. We had a rushed dinner because Paul had to come rescue me since we only have one vehicle at the moment, then we watched the hilarious 49ers-Raiders game (well, hilarious in its score; I haven't seen anything as awful as Raheem Mostert breaking his arm on the field since the last rerun of Theismann's leg breaking). A few more Halloween pics:
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