The week gone by — Nov. 8

The sudden clanging of the bell made me wonder if there was barbecue to be had nearby.

After all, it was lunchtime, so I wouldn’t have objected.

It was a glorious day, one that wouldn’t be out of place in early June, much less early November. It was the type of day to stretch your legs out and take the three-mile walk instead of your regular two miles.

It’s about as fleeting as the snow I wrote about in this space last week, but much more enjoyable.

However, given the lack of a chuckwagon, the reason for the bell was still an open question. Was the homeowner trying to tell us something? Should we be looking for puffs of white smoke?

Given that all the world’s knowledge was in the pockets of our shorts, it didn’t take long to find out.

Habemus prases. (If the translation is terrible, blame Google.)


I could have gone to sporting events, concerts, museums and plays every day in all the world’s great cities, and I wouldn’t have been able to come up with anything to write or talk about this week. My brain just … wouldn’t.

However, Pea Green published the guest post I wrote for Smelly Socks and Garden Peas, so please go over there and read it. It’s about growing into an adult, and how losing a “y” helped symbolize it.


I haven’t been in the gym in seven months, and although I’ve tried to stay active, I’ll probably fall apart the first time I’m back. I’ll have to be like Rosie and not be too hard on myself.

Sarah writes about the beginning of the end.

Sure, keeping yourself and others safe during a global pandemic is cool and all, but if that’s not for you, Renata lays out some of the other benefits to wearing a mask

Austin was looking for some help from above. It took a few days, but he got it.

Savannah and Chad continue to be that couple that’s too sweet and you just hate them for it. (I kid about the hating part.)

Zoe fights her demons, even though they are inseparable.

Vee is happy, but she wants more.


I woke up from a nap the other day a little after 6, and it was pitch-black outside. Freaked me out.

If you dig hard enough and in the right places, you may find this at my parents’ house.

First post-Christmas book every year! (Although I do need to buckle down and get through “Reaganland.”)

I’ll have to keep this in mind when people call me “sir.”

I’m sure she will miss him, but probably not the worst reason for shouting “Oh no!!!” at one of these things.

I will go to my deathbed believing that “judgment” is the wrong spelling and cursing whoever decided otherwise.

Suzi has already put her Christmas playlist on her phone.

This can never be true in a world where bacon exists.


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