Autocorrect just changed my email signature from “Alan” to “Slam” and I think that’s how I’m going to end all my emails, now.

Photo of a turntable and Peter Gabriel’s “So”

Working from home this afternoon and listening to some music. Been a while. It’s nice.

Cappuccino in an orange mug with a heart shaped pour of foam.

This morning’s cappuccino. Not a bad little heart, if I say so myself.

My son, getting in the car today after school: “Dad, were there people ALIVE in the year two thousand?”

Tile guy working downstairs is rocking Jane’s Addiction, so things are all right.

Photo of an overturned trailer full of hay bales.

This overturned trailer slowing traffic down on my way home was … the last straw!

Red and orange clouds at sunrise.

Red sky at morning. Winter weather on its way!

📚 Finished Kate Harris’s Lands of Lost Borders this weekend. It’s a thoughtful, interesting and sometimes wonderfully lyrical story of cycling the Silk Road.

Screenshot of a to-do item called “tooth fairy”

Nailed some Dad Stuff this weekend, gang.

Nobody at the gym gets my joke about how when I turn my hat around, it’s like the ignition switch on a truck. sigh

It’s 2018 and I still have to screw around with VLOOKUP for half an hour before it works.

Dark early morning sky with one star and a few pink clouds

Pre-dawn in the Starbucks parking lot. Not bad, winter sky. Not bad.

Photo of a black dog on the floor.

Haven’t had lots to say for a little while. Here’s my dog looking ready for something.

Photo of a black dog in comic book style.

This comic book photo filter really is as cool as they say. It’s too bad it’s so inconvenient to use.

Sunset light on the tips of the San Francisco Peaks.

Mountain sunset last night was pretty excellent.

Photo of a man fishing hip deep in a river.

My mom snapped this photo of my dad last week, fishing in Dillon, Montana. I’ve looked at it dozens of times since. My dad has hit some health problems the last few years, and it gives me joy to see him wading in a river, fish on, in such a spectacular place.

Josh Ritter performing on stage at Flagstaff Cornucopia.

Last weekend I got to see my favorite songwriter, Josh Ritter, perform his first ever show in my little town. It was a wonderful, outdoor solo show on a perfect autumn night, a needed change of mood from a tough week. Josh plays with such a joy, such a tremendous heart and hope. Today I continue to reflect on that as the week ended again in a way that makes me feel gutted and bleak, and I’m playing more of his music on a long Sunday afternoon.

From his “Girl in the War”:

Because the keys to the kingdom got locked inside the kingdom
And the angels fly around in there, but we can’t see them
And I gotta girl in the war, Paul I know that they can hear me yell
If they can’t find a way to help, they can go to Hell
If they can’t find a way to help her, they can go to Hell

Paul said to Petey “you gotta rock yourself a little harder;
Pretend the dove from above is a dragon and your feet are on fire”
But I gotta girl in the war, Paul her eyes are like champagne
They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain
Sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain
They sparkle, bubble over, in the morning all you got is rain

We got an inch of early-season snow overnight (all melted, now, but it’s still cold out), turned on the furnace for the first time today, have a bison roast in the oven, and I’ve been playing loads of Forza, AMA.

It’s 2018 and Apple Music still can’t properly play a live album without mixing it up with studio tracks.

This cascade of reboot-required windows updates is really putting a dent in my Friday afternoon work momentum, which was already pretty significantly unhurried.

Photo of the San Francisco Peaks.

From the commute cam: it’s just starting to look like autumn up on the mountain.

Photo of a black dog.

Puppy keeps an eye out on the porch.

Black dog lying in an orange sunbeam.

Wildfire haze makes for a pretty delicious pupper sunbeam.

Photo of an espresso

Friends, let’s all pause and have an afternoon espresso, what do you say?

Dusk light through smoke and trees.

Only a touch Mt. Doom-ish with smoke wafting up from Sedona the other evening.