How to do the wrong thing right Fall officially arrives this week, but somehow, it feels like it’s been autumn all year. Thank you, Rona, for your eternal specter of staved death looming behind every face mask!
Additionally, sweet readers, I’d like to personally thank all of you who, throughout this past year, have so kindly inquired about how my old “Pumpkin Tartlet” tomcat, Boo, is doing: Boo, 107 in human years — whom I lucked across 20 years ago on the Katy Trail back when it was still railroad tracks; a fluffy orange kitten all alone by itself with nary a concern in this world — would have turned 21 the upcoming Ides of March.