Our evening guests are most civilized and courteous. They arrive under cover of night, discreet little creatures. They come in groups, in pairs and singly. And they take turns. When one group, pair or single raccoon leaves, others take their place. There sometimes is ample time to refresh the offerings before succeeding guests make their appearance, and sometimes there isn't. But they're so accustomed to being served, they don't bother retreating when Irving makes his appearance on the porch with his peanut pail. Moving back slightly to wait under the porch bench is the usual modus operandi.

The first to arrive last night was a group of four kits. They're old enough now that they can venture out without Mama, but most often they're all together. When they eventually left it was the much younger, smaller kit who is a loner that took their place. He's the one your heart melts over. Earlier in the day yesterday when we returned from a brief foray into the ravine, Jackie chased the little rabbit that sometimes drops by; he was just leaving the porch. It's more usual to see him at night.

Irving is in the process of turning mouldings for the door he's just made, planning to install it tomorrow. Once that's done he'll turn his attention to creating a cartoon drawing of the stained glass he intends to fill the door with. But it was cleaning day, so he also turned his attention to the more immediate imperative of the house vacuuming. 

I couldn't stand the look of the porch, the walkways and patios out front of the house, after all the rain. It had washed more leaves down off the trees and tons of tiny crabapples. The porch was full of peanut skins and everything called out to be swept away. I interrupted my dusting to do just that. A cool, windy day today but no rain for a change. Mostly heavily overcast, but on those few occasions when the sun shone briefly it felt incomparably warmer especially in the backyard's microclimate, which suited Jackie and Jillie very well. As long as one of us was out with them.

The constant rain over the weekend didn't allow for any gardening and gardening clean-up. Some of the rose shrubs have gone on a cane-growing spree, but no hint of any roses beginning to bud as a farewell to this summer's growing season. They'll soon be penalized. When all the outdoor sweeping was done back into the house to do the interior; dry-mopping and floor-washing.

Patient as usual, Jackie and Jillie were relieved to finally get out into the ravine, allowing us to accompany them. Cool enough, we thought for them to wear little tee-shirts, both identifying them as 'sloppy kissers' and they certainly are that. The wind remained up at street level as we plunged our way into the ravine, on to trails thick with mud. The level of the creek is down from the past several days but still the water rushes downstream, a turbulent run-off.

When we climbed up to the heights where trails pass alongside wild apple trees, Irving scrubbed about to find a few nice ripe apples not yet taste-tested by squirrels, and shared them with Jackie and Jillie. A bit for one, a bite for the other. Sweet, he told me, and juicy. I took his word for it, no I didn't feel like eating any at that moment.

There are areas off certain trails where we know we can expect to see fungal growth in such mushroom-perfect conditions as today, and we weren't disappointed. Intact specimens of amanita muscaria, not yet nibbled or knocked asunder by squirrels. It's a mystery to us why other than sheer mischief, squirrels nibble everything; the apples, the mushrooms, then discard them. These, after all, are both psychotropic and poisonous ... but not to squirrels?

 They don't seem to be as interested in trying out the clumps of oyster mushrooms that have also come up in some abundance and these mushrooms are edible, no threat to human health, reputed to have heart-health properties, in fact. Perhaps we can deduce that squirrels are like children, whatever they'[re told is good for them is uninteresting; anything forbidden has an irresistible allure...