A Frosty Morning, or Trash Day in November

Trash day mornings I spend my first waking moments figuring out which end of the fresh plastic trash bag is the end that opens and, in November, my second waking moments thinking maybe I should have put a jacket on for my trip to the curb.

There won't be any question about the jacket in a few more weeks. Or about boots.

Also, next time I'm buying the bags with drawstrings at the top—and I mean it, too.