living history

Moonvine blooming in September.

The leaves are seriously turning yellow and red, and soon it will be time to rake leaves. I am sitting at my desk at home and for the last twenty minutes I have been listening to something gnawing in the attic. I am pretty sure it must be a squirrel, but do not know for sure. There exists only some kind of trap door to the attic, which has to be pushed upward. One has to place a ladder under the opening, and then the ascent into the unknown may begin. I just checked - I am still not tall enough to reach the opening, and I have no clue where the ladder has gone. So my only hope is that the squirrel is not gnawing too big of a hole until someone taller will be able to check.

A Conversation
Teenage Daughter, 14: I have to do a presentation on the Cold War.
I: That's a huge topic.
TD: Yeah, I know. Do you know anything about it?
I: Well, yes.
TD: Like, were you alive during the Cold War?
I: Yes, of course. The Cold War ended not too long ago. I guess the beginning of the end was the fall of the Berlin Wall.
TD: And you were alive then?
I: Of course, that was in 1989.
TD: Wow, it is amazing to think that you actually were alive then, you know? That I am talking to someone who remembers that.
I: Hm
TD: It is like, like, you know, living history or so.
I: Hm
TD: You know, that I can talk to you and you remember when that happened, and I do not have to look it up in a history book or so. You know, that you are like, like living history. That is pretty amazing.
I: I guess so.

Suddenly I am feeling old. Being part of living history does this to you.