Our squirrels and birds and chipmunks have been feasting on the bountiful dogwood fruit harvest this year, and by feasting I mean going bonkers and cuckoo for the pretty red fruits dangling in the sky. The squirrels especially have become contortionists and acrobats in order to secure their mealy meals, balancing on precious perches and somehow never falling or losing their footing (pawing?) – they are little circus performers and whenever Andy and I catch their act we pause in our day to watch for a bit.

This is crunch time for these creatures – saving up for what is typically a long and lean winter. While it’s a circus act for the eyes, it’s life or death for them: the dangerous life of a squirrel, where if the flying danger from an airborne hawk doesn’t get you, an extended winter without access to sustenance might. Fall casts a deceptively comfortable spell if you lose your focus.

All I wanted to do was play Block Blast and the ads are attacking me like I’m some dried up old prune.

Is no place in this world safe anymore? I thought this was a game for the children…

#TinyThreads

Oceans away, a man of mystery has shifted shape and time. Backed by rocks cut by the sea and buffed by the wind, a black cloak swirls about him, obscuring form and figure, while a wispy hood of dark gray hair simultaneously frames and conceals his face. Is this the mysterious Mr. Oud, so recently introduced and still so out of focus? The wind is too strong to discern his tell-tale fragrance and namesake. 

He appears as if walking on water, but we know it better to be desert, and the mirrored surface is some combination of heat and optical illusion ~ a sleight of sight Mr. Oud would very much enjoy. Or so we would assume; assumptions are all we have when it comes to the mystery of Mr. Oud. While every person is their own mystery, some insist on revealing far more of themselves than was ever asked. (Ahem.) Mr. Oud was never forthcoming that way, and perhaps thatís why we follow him a little more closely. What fun is there in chasing after what has already been thrown in your face? Gazing upon a pair of pasties will always be more scintillating than gazing upon a pair of nipples. Gypsy Rose Lee understood this, and so should you. 

Mr. Oud is above such crude analogies, and his black cloak has billowed into a beige trench coat lined with Burberry plaid, his hair suddenly swept into a manicured coif, and his surroundings a sea of concrete sidewalks backed by buildings that soar out of sight. Mr. Oud is on the move. 

After decades of ordering at Starbucks, one thing has become clear: the decaf Americano is always forgotten.

#TinyThreads

Certain songs arrive later in life than we would like have liked, long after the fact and the situations where they might have helped with some resonant emotional advice, or some carved out nook of musical catharsis or healing.

See ‘Madness‘.

See ‘Bad Guy‘.

See ‘The Lake‘.

See ‘How Bad Do You Want Me?‘

See ‘All Too Well‘.

See ‘Breathe Me‘.

See ‘The Lake‘ again.

See ‘The Night‘.

See ‘Fall In Love With Me‘.

And now this beautiful gem, ‘You’re Here That’s The Thing’ – which I really needed several decades ago, when my heart would stir at the turn of every cute guy come every autumn…

… Catch the rain
Even on a sunny day
I swear I’m not excusing, I’ll cross my heart to prove it
But she seems tired ’cause we’ve been through this

These days part of me years for that stomach of butterflies again, that state of fevered bliss and catastrophe, when you’re not sure if you want to cry or vomit or laugh; the rollercoaster of emotional mayhem was a ride I always took, even if there was a line. Inhabiting those spaces from a safe vantage point is an interesting exercise in regaining one’s idea of youth.

… And I know you said that we’re not a thing
But you’re here, that’s the thing
And I’m not trying to give you a ring
Well, maybe on the phone if you let it sing
You’re overcomplicating everything

… When the lights go down, don’t say I didn’t warn ya
I don’t think that’s legal in the state of California

This song feels more innocent and lovely than the questionable shit I pulled in those heady days. Thinking back to my younger and more foolish moments (though some would argue less and have a fair point) I wonder if hearing this would have calmed or quelled my racing heart. In all likelihood, it would have only added fuel to the desire fire, giving my over-stimulated brain some scrap of hope that should have never been there in the first place.

… I’ve got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon
You just won’t admit it that you’re smitten
Hold on a minute, please, won’t you listen?
‘Cause I’m not sure… if you’re into me like I’m into you

… I said a lot of stupid things in the winter
Once the ice got thinner
But somehow, we managed through the fall
So I guess it’s not that bad at all

Like the little white daisies pictured here – not daisies at all but asters, and I’m not even sure of the difference and distinction – I’m keeping life as light as possible. Like this song – it could be saying a lot, it could be saying everything – or it could just be something to fill the background of your Instagram reel with a vibe and an atmosphere – no more, and possibly even less.

… That we’re not a thing
But you’re here, that’s the thing
And I’m not trying to give you a ring
Well, maybe on the phone if you let it sing
You’re overcomplicating everything

… When the lights go down, don’t say I didn’t warn ya
I don’t think that’s legal in the state of California

Never let it be said that there is an issue I cannot overcomplicate, overthink, overanalyze, or over-anything – my head knows no rest, my brain knows no way to stop. Meditation has helped, as has therapy, and great strides have indeed been made, but I’m just at the start of those journeys, even if it’s been years. The great undoing has only just begun.

… I’m going away
Did I forget to mention how long I’d stay?
Is that a question for another day?
But while we’re away

… And I know you said that we’re not a thing
But you’re here, that’s the thing
And I’m not trying to give you a ring
Well, maybe on the phone if you let it sing
You’re overcomplicating everything

Our weather has been super-fine this fall, but rain is undoubtedly on the way, as is an entire winter, so this is a reminder to get out and enjoy while it’s nice, and prepare to enjoy when it’s not. So much of our happiness is about perspective, and being able to shift that is one of the key components to a happy life.

Snoopy always has the best ideas. Happy Friday Eve!

Glinda has always been my girl.

#TinyThreads

We’ve been here before – and there is some semblance of comfort in that. At least, it’s what I’m telling myself to get through this next month of fall. When I look back at the past decade of posts for all the October firsts that came before, it does feel similar. There’s usually a few dogwood fruit posts, a transition to colder weather, the last of the precious garden flowers in deeper shades from the more tender time of year – in all, the same shit, different year. Cases in point to follow…

2024 ~ October entry. And a bonus glimpse into three decades prior.

2023 ~ A fall ballgame.

2022 ~ The smell of sex in the 90’s. (And a bonus meditation because it’s not all salacious.)

2021 ~ A fall fragrance.

2020 ~ When October comes.

2019 ~ The other Octobers.

2018 ~ Captured in a recap.

2017 ~ A fall by Tom Ford.

2016 ~ A peek at the end.

2015 ~ True blue baby!

Does anyone actually read the words of a text anymore, or do they just see letters, not formulate anything, and just respond with gibberish? Asking for a friend. All the friends. 

#TinyThreads