Funds aren't there for new carpeting —see? unraveling already . . . —so the old one gets a good cleaning. Padding goes down in the back room and I cover it with remnant donations. Last Saturday night I made an inspired plan for that area: I have these two large matching desks. The previous tenants left behind a —what do you call those dividers you put between cubicles? —and so I'll face the desks together along the wall that has all the outlets, the divider between them, and make temp-office-or-home-away-from-homework spaces. The next morning in, I think, the Sunday NYTimes online there was an article about places on the east coast doing the same thing, only charging rent for their cubicles. Hm.

I don't know why painting is so wearying but I am absolutely burned.

Gunter, the pet-sat tortoise, survived another very icy night in the greenhouse; his sleeping cubby is well heated, and he finally goes in there on his own reliably at sundown; it's that first part of the day that's a little tricky. His people should be returning in the next day or two to take him home to his securely warm winter quarters. Poor Gunter. And poor Ranger (the pet-sat dog): he's been in the doghouse since Monday, when he tried to kill Piff. She's laid-up upstairs. Not good. Years ago another cat of mine was grabbed and shaken (by a pit bull) and suffered a broken sternum and broken ribs. All we could do was keep him hydrated and fed. At that time it meant an IV for two days at the emergency animal hospital, then weeks of recovery at home. Piff, although clearly in pain, seems willing and able to eat and drink; otherwise she just lies limply on a pillow. So Ranger must stay out in his pen from sunrise to sunset, and then move via leash to a back room in the house, and then sleep in his crate overnight. I love Ranger, but he has no control over his impulses, and they're not very good impulses. (He tried this with Ted last week but Ted weighs 18 pounds and held his own.)

I had to scrape ice off the car windows this morning before driving us to town. I poured water over it first, but it just froze on the glass. Driving out I saw wisps of cloud—fog—drifting in the declivities. In the first light, with bits of autumn glowing yellow and red, a very pretty picture.