MISQUAH — The window at the Daybreak has two sheets in it now, which I do not believe has happened in September in my lifetime, and I have been going in that door since the Johnson administration.

The table has opinions about the second sheet. One of them holds that it proves there are more birds. One holds that it proves there are more hunters. One holds that it proves nothing except that Pat has tape. Pat, who put the second one up and did not put the first one up, has declined to adjudicate and has refilled everyone’s cup while they argued, which is her method and has been for twenty-two years.

Friday night I went to the football game for the first time since the year my grandson graduated, because four people told me there would be pie and I am not made of stone. The pie was gone at twenty to nine. Thirty-one of them. I got the last piece of an apple and I am not going to apologize for how I got it.

I want to say something about that pie table, which is that fourteen women baked for a junior class fundraiser and not one of them has a child in the junior class. Three of them do not have children in that building at all. Nobody organized that. Somebody asked and fourteen people said yes, which is how everything in this town has ever worked and which I am tired of hearing described as remarkable.

Monday there was nothing on the calendar. Not one thing between Sunday noon and this newspaper. The first empty day since June, and I did not know what to do with it, and neither did anybody else, and four of us ended up at the table at two in the afternoon on a Monday like a bunch of retirees, which is what we are.

My jars are in the basement and I have not looked at them in eleven days, which is a personal record.