It’s been quiet around here lately, mostly because the entire East Coast, for those who haven’t been watching the news, has been under a giant raincloud for the past two weeks. We didn’t suffer any of the horror Appalachia did, and for that I am forever grateful, but it sure was nice to feel warm sun on my pale, shriveled skin walking the dog this morning.

I had, with my cereal this morning, some of the best blueberries I’ve eaten in the last 10 years. In September. Modern civilization may be crumbling but I appreciate the small things.

The Check Engine light on the OG-V (164,000 miles and counting!) has been intermittently coming on and then shutting itself off for no discernible reason. I had the knock sensor replaced a few months ago at the behest of the computer, and immediately after that the light came back on and the computer threw the same code, so clearly the squirrels have been down in the engine munching on wires, or there’s a ghost in the machine. The clutch is definitely on its last legs, so we have to make a decision as to when that’s going to be addressed.

I was in New York last week for the briefest of moments to shoot video for a work event, and it reminded me both how much I love to visit that city and how much I could never stand to live there at this age. And for that matter, how much I dislike dragging video equipment through a train station. I think my remote shooting days are mostly over, unless they offer to send me someplace really cool; it’s cheaper to hire a local crew in most cases anyway.

Hazel found a way to wedge herself in between Finn’s fort and the raised bed sometime last night after 8PM; She backed herself out of the tac harness and went on the lam. I wasn’t aware until I went outside to collect her and found the evidence at 10:30. Jen and I suited up and prepared to canvas the neighborhood, but she came trotting back up to Jen in the backyard, panting, and immediately went inside to drink all of the available water. This is progress; her usual M.O. is to follow her nose to the Mississippi River and points west until someone can grab her and read her chip. I’m going to order a simple collar for her tags in preparation for the next time she slips the harness.