October Already?

This is a great time of year to "take the long way home", riding along the ocean to Summers Bay and cutting over the pass, coming out the other side right near the house.  A two-and-a-half mile commute becomes a 10 or 11 mile commute, but by the time I get home all the troubles of the day are gone and I'm ready to enjoy the evening.  I think I have photos on the point and shoot, and photos on the DSLR, but for tonight we're just going to have to make do with these two shots I took with my cell phone on the way home.  Photography is really 90% being there, and 10% equipment anyways.

You can see we're starting to get some snow in the moutains - and, one morning right on my doorstep - and it seems like more and more I wait to ride the motorcycle until the afternoon, switching over at lunchtime.  We're starting to plan this years Halloween party, and just got a few decorations in the mail today that we had to check out before bed.  Goldfish is making her rounds, turning off the overhead fan, banking the wood fire, checking the dog's water dish and the locks.  I'm so very grateful I got some primer on the south wall of the house just before it turned cold because I'm not sure there will be many more days this year warm enough to paint.  I got to talk with my sister briefly at work today while I waited for the computer to finish cranking out a backup disk for the Seattle Office, but I need to call my sons, and my Dad, and my brother, and my other sister, most of whom are heading to bed in their time zones by the time I get out from work each day.  I miss them all, and wish they were closer.

I'll try to blog more, and not wait until I take just the right picture to illustrate what is on my mind.  This was the 603rd post on this blog - not bad for 3+ years of island life.  The great thing about just posting snapshots from the cell phone is they are much smaller files and upload much quicker at our slow island internet speeds.  Cheers everyone, I'm off to bed to listen to the wood crackling in the stove and the rain on the metal roof, the dog snoring on the floor beside me as I drop off to sleep . . . .