Good morning, peeps. I’m trying to handle coffee once more, and we’ll see what happens in an hour or so. Happy Halloween, if that’s your jam. 
This is a big difference compared to last year’s holiday. For one thing, there’s probably going to be kids. It will also be above freezing, which is an added benefit. As is relatively traditional for Rhode Island, they’re dealing with some shitty weather up north. I plan on spending some time in the front yard, a dark, wingless pixie conjuring a tangle of swirling lights. If Shawshank were here, or even my mom, I’d try my hand at making some “chopped-off wing” prosthetic makeup that he could slap on my back.
Yesterday, Brian and I hit up Walmart for some lunch stuff for his work week. He’s been going through extra lunch stuff because he’s been making sandwiches for dinner as well. He doesn’t care about me making dinners, which is great. I’d love to make something funky, but he wouldn’t enjoy that. He’d eat it, because that’s how he was brought up, but I’d hear about it from my mother at some point.
Chaucer made me cry last night. It was after midnight, and I was watching yet another episode of Outlander. The end of the episode features a busker playing Scotland the Brave on the pipes. Shawshank used that for his phone’s alarm sound, and it literally hasn’t played in the house since before THAT DAY. Chaucer had been a complete asshole all night before finally fucking going to sleep at the foot of the bed. But as soon as those pipes came through the speakers, he woke up and started headbutting me, just like he would with Shawshank‘s alarm. I fucking lost it, and made that my cue to go to sleep.
Brian is doing some work around the house this afternoon. The washer is running, and soon will come the power tools. We expect his uncle to come over at some point, probably for football and dinner. I’m trying to figure out what sort of “props” I can rig from shit in the house.
Enjoy the day, folks.
