Albo P Fossa—November 6, 2019
All of a sudden, a biting wind.
It seems cold. My phone shows 34° (feels like 21°) and surrendered leaves litter the yard under Junior and other trees. I’d heard we’d have a mild winter. Maybe fall changed its mind. And then one day, danged if it didn’t snow.
Just in time for Halloween, a few neighbors strung Christmas lights. (Some stores had started on Labor Day; the City of Santa Fe on October 30.) Merchants have griped that, since a later Black Friday takes a six-day bite from shopping, Christmas promotions must start early. Six fewer days: I’m not sure how that works. TV ads sing the songs.
On Halloween, 48° was the high, down to a low of 21°; in the thirties about time for the rounds: similar to last year. We had some thirteen candy-callers last year. This year we were up to seventeen. Only the most eager braved the wind.
We pencil-marked the back of a manilla 5081 to keep track of kiddles. We still have a stack about 14 inches thick of 5081s. Each card is 2.25 by 7.375 inches, eighty one-byte columns of eight bits per column. 80-byte relics of mainframe computers. One of those computers’ 256 kilobyte memories would’ve filled an insignificant niche on my phone.
As usual we overbought little treats: four containers. On the label, each container had “about 17” packs—each a “one serving size” bite. Each pack containing about eight little bits of sugar-coated peanuts. Hard to judge: this and last year, one container would’ve been enough. But buy just one and be deluged by kiddles, right?
Summer and Daylight Saving Time have bit the dust. Near time for a bite of turkey.