Herb at Eight

I guess autumn is here to stay. We may get some more warmth, but it looks like the tomatoes are slowing down and the zukes have given up completely. The temperature inside is 64 degrees and I've considered turning on the heat, but so far it's still not essential.

This is another photo from 1989. Unky Herb, at eight years old, is in his cut-off sweat pants standing by the door of Old Blue. Old Blue has been gone a couple of years now, but it was a long lasting member of the family - a Toyota Camry station wagon. It toted camping gear for at least three father-son boy scout canoe trips to the Namakagon River in northern Wisconsin. The trips always came in May, and were always beset with wood ticks and occasionally a thunder storm. We slept in tents for two nights each time and I was rained on enough to know what it's like to sleep in a puddle. See the kind of memories that old photos dredge up.


I played three sets of tennis in the dwindling light this evening. The light became pretty dim by the time we quit, and I have begun to notice that my eyes aren't handling dim light nearly as well as they used to. I definitely prefer bright midday sunlight. And a little more warmth would be appreciated. The tennis for the rest of the week will be inside where at least the light intensity is constant and from the ceiling.