Last night when we got home from work, Cam got busy putting frosted film on the window in the shower, so we can bathe without shocking the neighbors. We had a pillowcase over it for a while, but the mildew was becoming unbearable. Anyway, in helping him, I learned how to open the windows in our place in such a way that you can flip them flat and wash the outsides. I knew they had this feature, but hadn't mastered it, but now I've got it. So while he finished the film and moved on to the blue room to hang shelves, I made my way from window to window, sliding, flipping, spraying, washing, wiping, and flipping again. Now they sparkle, the raindrop residue and the kitten noseprints are gone. In the bedroom, I left the tops open and propped myself up in the bed, listened to a great mix a friend passed along and enjoyed the breeze. Today's commute was cool and breezy, fall-like, and when I walked into work I remarked about it to my colleague, who has an infant son we call Pico. He too was moved by the breeze - last night, he scooped up Pico and headed outdoors, just so Pico could feel it ruffle his hair. "Pico," he said, "that's what a breeze feels like."