Autumn is my favorite time of year. When the Equinox arrives, I perform my quarterly ritual of moving the furniture around in my small bedroom, taking down old pictures and hanging up new ones more appropriate to the season. I also put my heavier comforter on the bed, a beautiful Japanese quilt with a pale blue and gold design. Unfortunately, the weather has turned warm again so that action is premature.
Bob and I watched Inspector Lewis last night while I munched on Concord grapes. Mmm, my favorite -- only available for a short time in the fall. (The grapes, not Lewis, though in a recent episode he kept going on about retirement so I wonder if there's a secret plot to ax the series.)
Inspector Lewis is an offshoot of Inspector Morse. I like the pairing of Lewis and his assistant Hathaway so I enjoy the program even though the plots are absurd. The story line invariably features an insane person as the murderer who has a secret room/ altar/ notebook filled with photos and clippings of the object of his obsession. The room, altar or notebook is discovered at the last minute by the detective team who then race to the rescue of the final victim. (There are usually at least 3 victims. The murderer saves his favorite for last.)
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