Okay, this is weird. Yesterday I wrote that I thought I heard a deer just outside the front door, and something that sounded like a helicopter landing on my roof. Tonight, after I turned on the exterior lights so David could find his way here (he called and asked to use my fax machine), I peeked out through the blinds, and the little deer — the one I've seen off and on all summer, I believe — was making itself at home in the garden, munching away.

As I was watching the deer, a helicopter, lit up like a Christmas tree on the Fourth of July, flew low over the house. (And the deer scampered away.) I'd dismissed the noises the other night as the sounds generated by the first rainfall of the season. Now I'm not so sure about that.

The clouds had rolled away just in time to see the full moon tonight, a big, bright circle of reflected light in a black, black sky. It's even brighter and even blacker out here in the country — especially since I wasn't encouraging visitors by turning on the lights (until David's call). I didn't have any trick-or-treaters last year, and I wouldn't want anyone to stumble up the muddy, rutted drive, especially since I don't have anything here for them but rice cakes and granola bars (and leftover jambalaya).

David brought pictures (he has the camera I swoon over) of Yosemite and Shasta Lake and himself in his Marlboro Man costume for Halloween, and I should have asked if I could scan them and steal them for my journal, but I didn't know how long it would take or how long he could stay, and besides I didn't think of it till after he left, but it was good to see him.

He's awfully busy, working full time and going to school full time. I don't know how he has any time left for all the stuff he takes pictures of, let alone visiting his creaky old uncle. Me, I'm hobbling through the day with my wobbly hip joint, trying to get from my desk to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and back before something gives and I end up in a heap on the floor.

I'm in too good a mood, after a visit from my nephew and a great World Series game, to think too much about the list of grievances I made earlier in the day. I don't know that I ever intended to make them the heart of today's entry, but here they are, in brief:

The IRS: Did we not file our 1099s in January? Is this not almost November? Then what has the IRS been doing for the last nine or ten months, that they are just now getting around to sending me a request for more information about the 1099s we filed for the year 2000?

FedEx: Monday I called the number on the card FedEx mailed to our post office box. They wanted a street address for a package Blue Cross had unaccountably sent via FedEx to a box number where everyone knows FedEx doesn't deliver. I left them the address, and now where is my package? I know someone was here today while I was gone, because there are fresh tire marks in the driveway. A truck turned around right by the walkway to my front door. So where is my package?

The bank: How is it that I can stand in line at the bank, where only one teller window is open, and get more and more furious as I check my watch every fifteen seconds or so, and then when I finally get a chance to make my deposit after waiting at least ten minutes and the teller asks me how I'm doing, all I say is "Fine, how are you?"

This has been another episode of Short Attention Span Theatre. Thank you for your— Hey! Where did everybody go?

World Series notes: For the record, this was one of the best World Series games of all time, and no amount of distance and perspective is going to change that. It's an all-timer. But it won't be remembered nearly as well, in the historical context, if the Yankees don't win the Series.

It's not like I'm turning into a closet Yankee fan or anything, but when El Duque got into such deep trouble in the first inning, and then got out of it, I smiled a little. Okay, a lot, and raised a fist and shouted. Then when Tino Martinez hit a two-run homer with two outs in the bottom of the ninth to tie the game, I shrieked. I don't know what's come over me. I really wanted the Yankees to win. This game, anyway. By the time they went into extra innings, Derek Jeter's winning homer, just minutes into November, seemed inevitable.

I wasn't happy with the Diamondbacks early in the game, because I thought they were giving up too many outs. However, even though they lost, the decision to start Curt Schilling on three days' rest was correct. If your best pitcher tells you he wants the ball and is ready to go, you have to believe him. It's too bad (for him) they couldn't get him nine runs, the way they did in game one.