We are dancer

The results of the poll are in. We are dancer.

Charlie wants candy for breakfast now. I don't give in to his demands. He has quite a bit leftover in his bag. The neighbor adjacent to us gave him a handful of those orange wrapped peanut butter flavored confections. I don't like those. He couldn't hear very well. I have never yelled at close range and been calm.

The Halloween turnout was marginal. I shut the porch light off at 8:15 and stood in the dark by the front picture window with a cocked air rifle concealed beneath my robe. The moon was bright here in Denver. Not sure if it could be seen over game 3 of the World Series of Major League Baseball. Charlie and coyotes howl at the moon. He is good at howling.

I strung some Christmas lights around the twisted branches of the crabapple tree out front. That crabapple is sensitive to weather. We had a late snow the killed the fragrant pink blooms this spring. One day last fall I just happened to be at the window in Charlie's bedroom looking out at the tree when a dozen or so songbirds swarmed the branches and in a matter of minutes stripped the entire tree of its small berries. I missed the birds this autumn. I was hoping Charlie could watch them plunder the branches bald.

It is early for Christmas lights but I wanted to take advantage of the break in weather. Half of one strand doesn't work. I removed the lights from the gazebo. The roof of my gazebo took on too much snow and collapsed. The aluminum frame bent at each of the four corners. I took off the canvas covering. I should have done that before the heavy snow fell. It is now a sad skinless structure.

All is quiet. The whole house fan is running. It suppresses the sound my keystrokes make. Charlie ate a peabutter-jelly sandwich, a container of sweet potatoes and a container of prunes for lunch. He self regulates his diet. When his bowels haven't moved for a day, he begins to special request prunes. I am serious.