RedKale of Leave

Oh my goodness, what a beautiful day, almost dreamlike in its mild warmth and sparkling sunlight. At last I feel as if autumn has arrived, stealing in late and very quietly, and now every street is like an avenue into a faerie realm. But, to be honest, in every season the tree-lined streets seem to me like paths beckoning toward a faerie realm. In the spring, it's the divine mist of newborn leaves and tiny flowers. In the summer, it's mighty clouds of deep green. In the autumn, the trees are majestic columns draped in red and gold for some great feast. And in winter, it's architectures of ice adorned with the embroidery of snow. I always feel that if I went just a little farther, the archways would open for me into the Undying Lands.

Be that as it may, I had plenty of mundane events to take up my time today, so my time by the lake was not very productive of flights of fancy. Instead I was calling up doctors' offices and such to take care of trivial matters that had been poorly organized. But I think I have things settled now so the Duchess will not have to worry about it, and can take Dr. Nurse out to shop for wedding dresses!

Today is, fan-canonically, Jack O'Neill's birthday. We grilled a steak in the Colonel's honor. The Sparrowhawk bought a tiny cake in the fancy wine shop/deli where he had stopped to buy local honey, which we like to put in our tea. The big jar we serendipitously found in Stockbridge last time we were there is empty now. We put a candle in the cake and sang Happy Birthday to Jack, wherever he may be.