Made french toast and bacon, hardly any butter, need to go grocery shopping.

Blustery, cold. Should be doing some work, but can't seem to get my head around it.

On Thanksgiving, I slipped and fell down the stairs, no real injuries, slight burn on wrist from railing.

Strange that the big tree out front still has some leaves on it.

Home from L's dad's funeral, watching Macy's Parade with Peretz.

Coffee is brewing.

Woke at 11:11. Happy Armistice Day. Wars continue.

House pervaded with the scent of snickerdoodles. Peretz is pacing about impatiently.

Foggy headed.