Archives - Weekly Update

Well, the wind is whipping outside today, and I am humored by the folks on our block who have landscapers blowing their leaves, which is an exercise in futility. The way I see it, the leaves have been whipped up and down the street all day, and I am fairly sure at this point that no one has a leaf-free lawn. I have this handy-dandy little weather forecaster on my desk, and I see no temperatures to be above 60 for the next five days, thus my theory holds true. No matter how warm the fall is in the Northeast, by Halloween the temperatures plunge and the heat goes on. This is the first Halloween in almost 20 years that no one here at the house is dressing up for the holiday. I have not even pulled out the large lighted pumpkins that usually fete the place; will have to get something up by Sunday lest the trick-or-treaters be disappointed! While no one is dressing up here, there are requests for the black bean chili (I do not like red kidney beans) that I make each Halloween. Nice to know SOME tradition remains.

Every time I go to San Francisco, I remember how much I just love that city. From visit to visit, I also forget about the hills. When people were making appointments with me, they were asking where I was coming from and then me telling them that I could walk to see them since there were no hills. I was dismissing this 'til Sunday afternoon.

I am in San Francisco for Bouchercon, the world mystery convention. I love this event because it gives me a chance to see --- and talk to --- lots of readers. Of course, the fact that it’s in San Francisco, which is one of my favorite cities, is pretty grand, too.

We live in a fairly rural area --- no sidewalks, curbside mailboxes and lots of trees. Deer graze lawns when they are not darting in front of cars, testing our alertness. There is one house at the end of the block where deer congregate on a regular basis; I think they are gossiping about us humans. This time of year animals are known to sneak inside to escape the chill that is building in the air. My husband regularly calls out, “Close the door.” The other morning I came down the back staircase and saw something small frantically darting around the back hallway. The door was ajar, as was the garage door as my husband was doing the morning hunting and gathering of the newspaper. So much for “close the door.”