So are the days of our lives.

I'm beginning to think there's a reason they call it "fall."

Don't worry; I'm not here to complain. But now that I've made the appropriate disclaimer, I'm going to go ahead and do just that. So far this Autumn thing just isn't turning out so hot (and the fact that it still IS hot around here is just adding insult to injury).

It all began (as these things always do) with a rabbit.

And it ended with for a rabbit. Yes, our time with the long-eared Sadie Doe was sweet, but in the end, RP couldn't reconcile himself with the fact that she was not a canine. Now Sadie resides in Fountain Valley, having lived nine months a half-mile from the beach and never once seeing the ocean.

It's a tragic tale.

But we managed to get one last family shot, before she hopped out of our lives forever and into the arms of a good home girl from Craig's List who didn't appear to harbor plans on eating her.

With the Prices down one furball and two long ears, we decided to make the most of our weekends. Especially since we were also simultaneously released from our babysitting job church calling with the four year olds. So we set off for the trees -- the Sequoias, to be exact.

Things were cold. Marshmallows improved matters marginally.

RP was the picture of chivalry, though. He not only built me a fire to keep me from taking the car and leaving him in the sub-30 degree nights, but also made me a "heat rock" to put in my sleeping bag. The rock worked magnificently until I started smelling burning towel/bag/flesh and realized that RP was secretly trying to roast me to death in my sleep.

I'm just relieved I saved Sadie in time. Who knows what else this madman is capable of.

Even in the beautiful Giant Forest with no radio or cell reception, we still couldn't escape all the election talk.

Speaking of elections, RP and I did our civil duty and made a date night of voting. Since that involved ten "propositions," it ended up being a super sexy evening.

Until we actually saw the results.

There were tears. And the eating of way too many sugar-free, gluten-free peanut butter cookies (the downfall of America as we know it is no reason to abandon your health).

Nonetheless, we move on: through the loss of presidential hopefuls, ballot propositions, body heat, and pet rabbits. Since primo pie-making time is imminent, I still have something left to live for. Salvation, thy name is pumpkin.