it's slowly turning to my favorite time of year: early november. i love the back end of the color splash, when bright red leaves turn dull pink, when the bright yellows turn to burnt yellow. i like it when leaves make noise beneath your feet and even when they rot or mold a little causing some inconvenience. reluctantly i'll rake some of them up and maybe even put them in bags for the city. really i wouldn't mind just having them around all winter.

the dogs seem to be ok with a limited amount of exercise, since it's both cold and rainy, and the two little ones are asleep in the living room with me as i type. the big one, who is actually a puppy but has grown to twice the size of the others, got a good workout earlier in the day when he got me to play fetch, and got jen to take him to the dog park. he now is asleep too. late afternoon, and almost everyone's asleep, except maybe for the fifteen-year-old daughter, who has her boyfriend over.

lately i've been giving a lot of rides - to the boyfriend, who lives about six blocks away, and to my son's friends, some of whom live way across town. today i gave a ride to one who was about ten blocks or a mile away. i felt like saying, in my day, i wouldn't have even asked. this is especially true for the boyfriend. six blocks, flat, small town, no reason he can't walk. but they live in a different generation. they don't like to walk. i'm not sure what it is. tonight i have to leave for the evening, and i think they will be on their own: either they'll curtail their activities significantly, or, they'll walk. even when it's cold, i don't see the big deal. when it's icy, i'd actually rather walk. the cold doesn't bother me that much, and i'm more secure with my feet beneath me.

nevertheless, i generally never say anything. i'm like the driver in those movies, who is always polite and never interjects or imposes any ideas on anyone. my kids, rather than wanting "shotgun" as we used to, sometimes prefer "princess" which is to me sitting in the back, with someone but isolated from the driver, free to do things that are out of my sight when i'm driving. i say nothing. sit where you wish. i allow a certain amount of alienation from parents and unwillingness to engage, which in this case is sometimes more my fault than theirs. i could mix in every time. but the problem is, my hearing is bad and i'm often getting in to more conversation than i can understand.

high holy days, and traveling. tonight i take the interstate, to go to a nearby small town, to babysit with step-grandchildren, all of whom are charming in their own way. they will most likely leave me totally alone while they watch some show or another, but i could inflict myself on them a little or at least try to do something with them. i have no plan at the moment. i'm a little sad that it comes to this: a gulf between family members. but it's partly a function of the fact that i've got ten kids, the last few of them wringing the life out of me, and i'm just plain tired. i want to write, but in a way, i'm too tired for even that.