October whispers of days gone by

The last town day of October is done.
This month has zipped on by.

Our first stop was the thrift store.
They advertise new merchandise every Wednesday.

Badger spotted a “Yellowstone” blanket she wanted.
Lucky for us, Cowboy woke up way earlier than usual. 
We got to town ahead of the crowd, and the blanket was still there.
Most times we’re late, and whatever’s on the website is already gone.
We ended up standing in line for twenty minutes.
Honestly, that store needs a new checkout setup.
Two registers aren’t enough, and the lines are ridiculous.

From there, we went to Lowe's and picked up a new washer.
It was one of those purchases where the money was technically there, but still felt tight.
I didn’t want to spend another winter wrestling with the old machine every time I needed to change a cycle.
This one has no computerized features, which suits me fine.
One review called it old-fashioned, but I think that buyer missed the point.
It’s old school, not a wringer washer, but definitely not one of those fancy computerized models either.
Delivery is scheduled for tomorrow, though the text gave a window between 4 and 8 p.m., which seems like an odd time for a drop-off.
It’ll sit on the porch until Saturday morning, since I doubt they’ll manage to get it inside.
Cowboy usually ends up cussing and prying off siding whenever we have to squeeze something big through.

We went to Walmart for groceries, and I grabbed a couple of bags of candy just in case.
It’s pretty rare to see trick-or-treaters here, but with new kids around, you never know.
The house is decorated, but I’m keeping the porch light off.
I don’t really feel like handing out candy.
When I was a kid, no porch light meant no candy, decorated or not.
I don’t think that rule means much anymore.

We grabbed dinner from McDonald's. 
I know we eat out more than we should, but even if I had something in the crockpot, town day runs too tight for Cowboy to sit down and eat a full home-cooked meal before work. 
By the time we get home, unload everything, and take care of the chickens, he barely has time to wolf down a burger and squeeze in a quick nap. 
At his age, a good nap matters more than a good meal, especially with the shift he works.

I could never handle second or third shift.
 Cowboy’s natural rhythm leans more toward night owl than morning lark. 
He often starts work around 3 p.m. and doesn’t finish until 6 or 7 the next morning. 
Switching to first shift isn’t possible because I can’t drive and most appointments can’t be scheduled after 4 p.m. 
Truth be told, he couldn’t handle first shift anyway, since mornings have never been his thing. 
He gives up sleep to make sure I get where I need to go.

The day proceeded the usual way once Cowboy got off to work. 
Badger has found a new TV series to watch, and I don’t mind as she sits with me again. 
I can’t even start describing this one: it’s a modern western mixed with time travel. 
I was promised aliens, although I haven’t seen one yet. 
There is a creepy hippie chick who could possibly be an alien in disguise.

We’ve been staying up until 10:30 p.m. to binge-watch. 
Then Heron comes in from work, cleans up, eats, and settles in with his phone. 
He usually doesn’t head back to the RV until close to midnight. 
I sit with him for a while; it feels like the least I can do.

I say it every year: you can almost guarantee that once Hometown’s Heritage Days have passed, the cold weather will roll in to stay. 
This year has been no exception. 
The heat has been turned on and is staying on. 
I hate that Uncle passed away, but I am so, so grateful that he is not spending another winter in that house of his.
It still breaks my heart and makes me want to cry when I think of how many cold winters he endured and how many rains he had to put tarps and buckets down for just to live. 
I’m ashamed and embarrassed at how many times I sent him a text complaining of my cold house when he was actually in an unheated house with no ceilings, no walls, no floors. 
I should have checked on him. 
I should have. 
There was no one else. 
His last remaining sibling was going through serious health issues herself. 
I screwed up, and I screwed up big time. 
He’s been gone five months.
Only five months.

I am not the most reliable person. 
I blame ADHD. 
I hate to, and I won’t let my children use ADHD as an excuse. 
But let's be honest. 
It does affect everyday life.