The rain finally stopped and the sunlight streamed in; the pumpkins and gourds were relieved to be serving a purely decorative function that would continue for some time.
Last night Stephen lit a candle, the first of nine eight (I think.) I thought about an article I read that stated that the two holidays would not converge again for another 75,000 years.
Rather than contemplate such a distant future, I decided it was better to enjoy the sun and play with the cats, who — because we had slept in — were anxious for their morning treats.
