It seems a little light on the Internet lately.  (Actually I’ve been a little light going on the Internet lately, too.)  Lots of people doing other things than blogging.  This is the part of the summer that makes me start to long for Fall.  The frenetic time where everyone seems to be trying to cram in one last vacation, trip to the beach, summer picnic, backyard bar-b-que, house moves/remodels/repairs – everything you want to get done before the weather ends, school starts or work picks up again.  Oh yeah, and you have to get ready for those too.

In the last three weeks I’ve managed to cut open the top of my finger with a pair of pruning shears, catch a bit of Chance’s cold, pick up a stomach bug right after that, and then fall over a baby gate while I was holding Chance. That last one was the most emotionally disturbing (even over the, you know, pruning my finger).  And what did I do?  I did what any parent would do… I shifted mid-fall so that Chance wouldn’t hit anything and I took the hit.  He was fine.  I banged up my ankle and elbow pretty bad and limped around a couple of days. (My biggest concern was that I had gotten called in to the office for the first time in six months and I wasn’t sure I could get my gimpy foot into a heel.)

I haven’t felt rushed to finish up summer these last couple of weeks like some folks have, but I certainly seem to be having the physical equivalent.  I start back to school next week.  I re-applied for my graduate program, registered for classes, ordered all my books, and bought a parking permit all online.  I got email notifications for everything and my books and permit shipped to the house.  I didn’t have to step onto campus once (or even leave my chair).  Things sure have changed.  But not too much.  I know my classes will be in the same air-conditioned challenged building they’ve always been in… and on the fourth floor.

 

I’ve been dragging.  I have a million ideas rattling around in my skull like gumballs and no focus to get anything out.  Hopefully I won’t pick the wrong moment to belch out something half-chewed and spit-covered.  (Oh, wait…)  Or maybe it’s just this age Chance is at.  He just. Keeps. Going.

Fall always seems quieter. Movies on rainy days, the smell of baking. 

Ah, you can feel it now too, can’t you?              – the weirdgirl