QUITE A DAY in Postcards 4

It’s Halloween, it’s the first day to vote, and tonight you can crank back your clock. If that doesn’t keep you busy, I don’t know what will.

Blogger. Something has gone wrong with my template, and neither G nor I seem to be able to fix it. We may have solved the problem of access on Wordpress, even when spelling “Shipwoman” wrong, but we can’t seem to fix Blogger. The banner still reaches only ¾ of the way across tho George spent most of his day working with it.

An aside: Yesterday was a “worst” day ever at the gym. One of my meds caused a dramatic response, and after I cleaned things as best as I could, I went out and told the receptionist what happened. His cancer has returned, and he understands meds. He sent someone in to sterilize the locker room.

Halloween. We rarely get kids here for All Hallows Eve, and this Pandemic year I think we will get even fewer. We are going to shut the ground floor down and move upstairs. I’m sure the darkness of pulled shutters and curtains will hide us sufficiently. No candy this year. Last year over several weeks, we ate all the leftovers. He’s begun losing weight at last, tho I am not, and I’d like to encourage this. I’m not.

Tonight, before bed, he will go around to all the clocks that don’t reset themselves, like the microwave. He’s going to do all the batteries for the alarms not plugged into the house. They began beeping weeks ago, but they only go into our faces yesterday. We always survive this cyclical stuff easily dropping back, but we fight it going forward.
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Himself: Off to docent at the Auto Museum.
Myself: Maybe I will go too.
Reading: Cadell.
Watching: The Great British Baking Show season 3.
Photo: John Sr. and George.
Gratitude’s: Twice in the pool this week, and too next week.