November is here sooner than I hoped. I don't trust time to measure itself correctly. I'm looking for a monthglass, like an hourglass, but impossibly larger. They should probably be specific to the month. If I started working on my Octoberglass now it would be ready for next year, but where could I keep it?

I spent all weekend sleeping through Halloween. Last night I was finally a Junior Historian, or nearly one. I never actually put on my Junior Historian pin. I was going to be a deer with antlers made of branches, but then I realized that I have no idea where to find branches. That was a little sad, but I'll save it for next year. By the time last night arrived everyone was pretty much done with dressing up anyway. Instead we told mysterious stories. He said, "...and then France called to say, 'We have your cat' ..." I said, "But Michigan isn't near an ocean. A cat couldn't just stow away and sail to France." Our faces were interrobangs. Then there was warm-blooded shark talk and Sam was hilariously alarmed. The boys told stories about being chased and hurling things and flinging themselves over fences, and it just confirmed what I always knew, that my childhood wasn't wild and should have been.

Every Halloween I have a faint worry that I'm going to be egged or mayhemed or something, but it's never once happened. I almost took an alternate route yesterday to avoid the derelict pool (not an assemblage of derelicts, but a public pool that's no longer in use) because it seemed like an obvious place for eggers to hide, but I was feeling stubborn, and it all worked out fine. I ran into B.D. just coming around a corner. Some nights when I go out I think of a person or two that I might happen to see, and I never, ever do, but yesterday B.D. was one and it actually happened. It shouldn't have. I've known him for a thousand years and we've pretty much settled into a schedule of seeing each other once every year or two. I'd just seen him in August, so he never should have come around that corner, but there he was. I asked him along even though I knew the boys would groan, and they did, but I can't help liking him. I've always had the impression that that he is secretly a goon who hides it with a soft voice and the most peaceful face I've ever met. He looks like an angel. I don't know, I guess he can be kind of creepy, but he can also be kind of good, which probably describes all of us.

There's more. There's daylight savings, and sleep paralysis, and missed Norwegian opportunities, but I just can't type anymore. My hands would rather not.