November oddities

The weather is strange, too warm for the brief days. It should be really cold, so that it feels good to be snuggles up indoors in the early dark.
Instead, we sit outside in the dusk, on a bare patio, the golds and silvers of sunset making pretty outlines of bare trees.
The dog is  puzzled, because, though it's warm, her summer sleeping spot in the back yard is in shade, not sun. So we put a blanket down for her next to our chairs, which normally would be in storage by now, and then she's fine.

Looking west on Mayfair, late fall.

The nice thing about the warm weather is that Twist & I can still go to the park. Normally by about now, our walks stick strictly to the street and sidewalks, because fall rains and snow make the paths in the park a little dodgy.
So Saturday at dusk, we wandered down. As we ambled along, I caught sight of a slow moving person in white, a black dog bounding ahead. After a bit our paths crossed and it turns out the person in white was my old pottery teacher.
We exchanged news and she told me she was still teaching. I had quit lessons, in the early 90s, after four or five years, because I didn't feel I was making any progress. And why would I have? Throwing pots one day a week is like practicing piano one day a week.
I just broke one of my favorite pots from those days and I mentioned that to her. Of course, she said, the ones we love are always the ones we break.
I think it's time for me to throw pots again.  I'll probably never be any good at it, but stranger things have happened.