Fall is upon us - I put on leggings for the first time today.

When I was a teenager I spent one summer babysitting and doing housework for a neighbor who had had surgery. I remember standing in her kitchen, having just gotten her two little boys settled for their naps, looking down at the dirty water that was the result of washing the floor. At that moment I wanted nothing more than to never be a housewife, a woman married to her house. I didn't want washing kitchen floors or doing laundry or making dinner to be the highlight of my day. I had a sense that having a job outside the home, something my mother didn't do after she had children and one of the things she became increasingly bitter about, would save me from that fate. Now, after working for almost 25 years (and doing the housework as well), I've realized that if I could quit tomorrow and spend my days in domestic activities, nothing would make me happier.

Books: The Witching Hour is starting to pick up and the promised lascivious sex scenes have begun.

Movies: Don't Say a Word. Another Netflix rental I only vaguely remember adding to my queue. A generic thriller with nothing to recommend it, neither story nor performances.
The Truman Show. The only disappointing thing about the DVD is that there is no extra material - no commentary, no behind-the-scenes scenes, no interviews. This is a movie that begs for a description of the production design process, at a minimum.

Cats: New non-tippable water bowls bought and not yet tipped. Hercules' new occupation - sitting next to the hamster's (cage which has been temporarily (I hope) relocated to the sitting room while Rebecca finishes cleaning out her room) while Teddy stuffs his cheek pouches with food, making the poor hamster all twitchy.