I woke up this morning at a normal hour -- 8:30-ish, when I could hear my sister leaving for something.  I spoke with my sis last night about monitoring Mother while she does her exercises this morning and, well, I figured my sister has done so much caring for My Mother, I think it is my turn to get out of bed and help out with Mother's PT while she takes several hours for herself.

After she got done exercising, I figured I had the time and the energy to clean out the gutters, something that needed to be done.  This was the perfect time; I was up, I don't have any other time to do it this weekend, and I don't know if it will be warm enough and/or not snowing for me to do it two weekends from now because I might not have time next weekend, either.  I thought there would be more leaves and detritus to clean out, but either there wasn't as much as I thought, or I didn't look closely enough, which is a possibility.

While sweeping away the leaves from the driveway, I looked up.  The skies are gloriously cloudy, and the trees on my street are still turning vivid shades of yellow, orange and red.  This weekend, this morning, would have been the perfect time to leaf-peep.  And I checked the temperature on my phone: 35 degrees, and it feels like 28.  But it doesn't feel like 28, or 35.  Maybe I'm hot from all the gutter-cleaning I was doing, but I felt quite warm and cozy for what I was wearing.  Anyway, this looked like perfect fall weather, and so I had to take a couple pictures of how I want the sky to look every day for the rest of my life.  No, really.