We still have some flowers desperately hanging on against the increasingly chilly and dark days and nights. The sunflowers are still blooming, and in the end we got a flower on every plant, even the ones that didn't grow much more than a foot high.
The lamium, with its leaves bearing a single silvery stripe, is putting out little purple hooded flowers...
...and the red dahlia is giving us a last gasp too. These flowers get so much paler late in the season; in summer they're bright red. Some of our other dahlias have already given up the ghost and I've cut them back and put them in the shed.
So what's been happening around here while I've been fussing with ancient quilts and autograph books?
Well, I went to the doctor two days ago because last week, while I was in the airport in Miami waiting for my flight back to London, I looked down at my arm and noticed a strange purple-brown spot. I was sure I didn't usually have a spot there, so it freaked me out a little. It wasn't scabby and didn't look injured, so what was it? Always wary of skin cancer because of my years in sunny Florida, I decided to have it checked out. Fortunately between then and Monday, when I saw the PA at my doctor's office, it lightened considerably. The PA looked at it with her magnifier and said she didn't think anything was amiss. I'm supposed to keep an eye on it but now it's basically gone. False alarm!
I also mailed Dave's ballot to Michigan, and I looked up my ballot, which I mailed several weeks ago, and saw that it's already been counted. So that's good. I have officially voted.
Dave and I just finished a show on Netflix called "The Watcher" which we enjoyed. It has a very good cast and some excellent performances, and apparently is loosely based on a true story. In a nutshell: Yuppie husband and wife buy their dream home and begin receiving menacing letters indicating someone is keeping an eye on them. Very Halloween-ish.
At one point, one of the characters, played by the excellent Jennifer Coolidge, is having lunch at a country club and tells the waiter to add more wine to her glass. "I need a holiday pour," she says. Dave and I laughed so hard. I will be forever grateful to this show for introducing me to that term.
Also in pop culture news, I finished Nancy Milford's biography of Zelda Fitzgerald. It was excellent, though in my opinion Milford goes into a bit too much detail about the plots of Fitzgerald's novels. (In an effort, I'm sure, to show us how Fitzgerald incorporated her own life into her writing.) What a tragic case she and her husband were. At one point, as Zelda became more and more mentally unbalanced, the book said F. Scott Fitzgerald was drinking 30 beers A DAY! A holiday pour is one thing, but that boggles the mind.
Finally, here's another interesting thing growing out there right now -- a shaggy ink cap mushroom. I came across this cluster at the cemetery, where I've found them before. They are beautiful in a sort of ghostly, Halloween-appropriate way.