Sick Sick Sick

Above and beyond baseline that is. I appear to have acquired the crud with a sore throat and a head full of snot. Lovely. I spent all day, fortunately one that was cold and grey, so I didn't object so much, in front of the computer typing away, making a handful of phone calls, not many because I woke up with my voice a whisper, and generally pushing paper and making lists. Along with sick, sick, sick I am dull, dull, dull. And night is falling outside the window, earlier than before. I usually am just high on New England foliage this time of year, and don't get into the dark moods until November with its relentless metal skies above the bare landscape. But this year, I appear to be starting early. Maybe it's feeling unwell, or frustrations coming on top of frustrations at work, or the fact that it's grey and cold and I've been spoiled by great weather. But this camera shot of a denuded maple with the gathering dark sums up my mood tonight. I don't even want to find out whats happening in the national parks. No thanks Ken Burns and PBS. Not tonight. Maybe I'll go make fruitcake. Or something.

Bleah

It's official. The crud of autumn has made its way to 63. Steve made me get out the kitchen because I was dropping things and being klutzy and flakey at the same time. Dangerous too, I suppose, around sharp knives and gas burners.

James looks really tired. He has a travelers cold, Gloria too. H1N1 on a plane? Makes me think fondly of the past decade's worst movie "Snake's on a Plane". "Flew on a Flu"? There might be another really bad movie on the way. . .

Today started off sunny and bright blue, and by the time I got home from yet another dentist appointment, was grey and overcast with lots of interesting cloud formations. I'm surprised there's anymore rain after last nights torrential downpours, but it looks like there could be. "Snakes in the Rain"?

Not much in the way of inspiration tonight. Enjoy the bad internet art

The Books are Closed

It's Yom Kippur and the books are closed. The fast has ended and the New Year celebrated a mere ten days ago is taking on its shape. The weather seems to agree, mid evening the clouds rolled in and we had hail and thunder and a shift in the air from the warm southerly flow to the northern Canadian chill. You can see it in the picture, it looked almost like something winged flying across the treetops.

In summer the cold front is a refreshing event, in fall, it's a foreshadowing of winter.

Aside from work and work, we've been watching the new Ken Burns series on the national parks. I'm delighted to report that I have learned some new history to add to my park nerd supply and I've loved the cinemetography. We've never seen that kind of wildlife in the parks, but then aside from our campsite - where we did see bears, come to think of it - we didn't stay still for long. I was keeping a tally of the parks when the documentary covered events in the formation and history of them. Yellowstone. Been there. Yosemete. Not Yet. Grand Canyon. Been there. Petrified Forest. Been there. Crater Lake. Been there. Devils Tower. Been there. Everglades. Not yet. Grand Teton. Been there. Mesa Verde. Been there. Chaco de Chelly. Not yet.

Wow. I am so grateful for the life I've been able to lead, the adventures and the travels I've been able to have.
My hair is framing the water where a single leaf floats upon a reflection of sky and tree.

Wet Leaves

Wind, lots of rain, and the leaves cascading off the trees. Couldn't be more of a contrast to yesterday. It was a full work day, compounded by the fact that I had a disastrous attempt at sleeping last night. Ergo, I'm wiped. I stayed up to watch the new Ken Burns series on the national parks. But it's over and I'm turning in. James and Gloria are back from New York City having the rat discussion with Steve. After sticking up for rats, I am silent. They're all bigots.

Towpath Travels

Hike-Ku
Blackstone Valley Heritage Trail

Heron, fish, turtles.
Russet trails, red maple marsh.
Fall on the canal.


When a day starts with a hawk, you just know it's going to get better. When I took the four legged out this morning, I encountered my neighbors who were coming back up Abbot with a camera. One of them spotted a hawk trying to get airborne with a squirrel it either ha a)killed or b) found freshly sacrificed by a car. At any rate the hawk found it's breakfast too hefty to fly off with, so in that mass displacement thing that makes flight possible, the bird began transferring outside squirrel to inside squirrel. Our neighbor collected her camera and spouse and joined forces with Rascal and I as we all headed up Abbot for the early morning bird viewing. The squirrel was abandoned when we got there, but the hawk was nearby and about the time we looked up, swept across the street and perched in a branch just in front and above us. A real National Geographic moment. (I think it was a redtail, but I didn't bring my camera, so you'll have to imagine) We watched the hawk. The hawk watched us. And probably thought to itself, "my breakfast is getting COLD. . ."

All this before 8. And then in spite of my raging headache, Steve and I headed off to the Blackstone Valley for a 60/60 hike. It was stunning in a completely unexpected way. It was hard to construct a hike-ku, we saw so much on this hike. The terrain was mostly unvaried, but we walked along the canal and riverways from rustic paths to a townway. The trail ran along an old towpath that had been used by the canal as men hauled cargo through the water down to Rhode Island and the seaports. Early nineteenth century industry was. . .industrious. There were turtles piled on rocks and swimming in sunny waters, fluorescent green algae blanketing the canal water, steelhead trout swimming in lazy circles and stilt legged herons in the marsh or soaring overhead. We hiked 11 miles. 11. Add my mile with the dog in the morning and it was a 12 mile day. I EARNED my dinner. Which was excellent by the way. It's autumn and cool enough to cook, so we went all out. No food pictures, by the time it got on the table I was too hungry to think about anything but fork to mouth.

Jammies

My weekends are short, usually just Friday night and Saturday. By the time Saturday night rolls around I'm starting to think about the next work day. But tonight is Friday and the weekend has begun for both of us. James and Gloria are off to NYC, for the weekend and the screening of the surfer short that James and Malin did a couple years back. James has a ticket to the screening. Gloria does not. But she has James, so I guess it all evens out.

As for me, I have a book, a glass of wine and my comfort clothes - jammies. And as soon as I find a random photo to put up on the blog, I am going to go settle on the couch with said book, wine and a small dog person. I love Friday nights. . .
I found the photo. This was taken on the trail to our campsite at Jordanelle in Utah, in the Wasatch front. That's about as random as you get. And yes, we did camp there, and although there were vanishing pets, I never saw a rattlesnake.

Ten years of devotion

It fun when James comes back for visits because he loves that dog and I get to see her again through the eyes of a visitor. We've had ten years of Rascal and sometimes it seems like she's ancient and some days it seems like she's just a pup. Ten years of unconditional love and devotion. I've had her longer in my life than Steve which is kind of shocking to think of. She's been such an integral part of our household, balancing our mellow energy with her borderline terriorist behavior and improving everyone's health. If it weren't for Rascal, I wouldn't walk nearly as much as I do. James and Jon too - the dog walk and cell phone talks are as much a part of their visits home as the epic sushi meals. She's been a great companion and I am often humbled by receiving the kind of devotion only a dog can give. In her eyes, we're perfect. Nothing quite like doggy love. Here's to ten great years and many more, Rascal.

Oh those Hollywood types

He's back. Number one son and heir, James along with the fair Gloria. Aren't they cute?

I had a relatively low key day in the morning, predictable work sorts of administrative things. And then another doctors appointment, this one with the surgeon who does the bronchoscopy thing. That sounds like a laugh riot. But first I get the test where you inhale the stuff that puts you into bronchial spasms. Another laugh riot. Middle age - not for sissies. When I had enough fun with pulmonologists, I came home, grabbed the dog and went for a very long walk around the Indian Ridge loop - I walked from here, so it was probably more mileage than the dog should have and it was hot. Dinner with Steve and then to the airport to collect these two. Gloria is subbing for her mother (teaching piano) so she'll be around for a couple of weeks. James is only home for part of that time. They're both going to NYC for the weekend (this of the film 'screening') and then back to Andover for the balance of their respective visits. I brought them home and fed them and am one very happy mom. It's been quiet here. Life is busy and full, and I'm very happy my kids have their own lives, but it's really nice when they return to visit the roost and in James' case, bring along a significant other. I like my kids.

Red

IS the color of autumn. Today is equinox, as of 5:19 eastern standard time this afternoon and although the temperature felt anything but fall like, the scenery is done with summer attire. Fall it is. These lovely leaves were the outliers on a small maple in Baker's Meadow. Baker's Meadow is part the Indian Ridge loop - which has quickly become my new favorite local hike. Steve and I headed out for a woods walk (walks you take water, hikes you take water and snacks - so this was a mere walk) after he got home from work and I got in from all of my dental and medical errands. (I had a sinus graft done last winter to ready my upper jaw for a dental implant - and lo and behold the pain I've been feeling all weekend? It's the graft gone bad. Which is distressing, but hey, stuff happens. Unfortunately and this is the part that has me seeing the non-leafy red - I had been back to the periodontist who did the lift - and he basically blew me off about the area of concern my general dentist had seen weeks ago - and sent me back to the periodontist to get checked out. GRRRRRRRRR. So now, more pain, and more antibiotics.) I am fully aware of the irony of taking my first full day off in two weeks - only to spend it at the dentist, at the pharmacy, at the doctor, getting a blood draw and to make it perfect, getting my new fashionable bi-level mask. Woo hoo. Makes going back to work tomorrow an attractive propostion.

Equinox. Time of balance. Equal day. Equal night. Light and dark. Dark and light. But just for a moment - and then the balance is lost and night begins it's ascendancy over the year. But for those few seconds at a little after five, it was. . .perfectly balanced. Just for a moment. Perfect.

Picture Day

Just got in from work, so this will be a blog of pictures. New England in early middish autumn. Enjoy

Swamp Thing

Hike-Ku for Skug River Loop
Dirty muddy pup
Rascal, the Swamp Thing, rises
From the marsh she came

Another perfect day. The weather gods are making up for their excesses of rain last May, June and July with the most marvelous stretch of weather. We've had another great day for hiking. I worked this morning into the mid afternoon, but with several hours of daylight left and warm temperatures, a hike was too good to pass up. It's a lot easier to motivate ourselves outside when the weather is so temperate. Cold, ice and snow will be with us soon enough, so we (SHOULD because we CAN) walk in the woods. Today it wasn't as much woods as swamp. This is another local hike - short, only a little over three miles (although we added more mileage retracing our steps at various points along the way) What I love about wetlands hiking this time of year is the early foliage changes that are so stunning, when the deeper woods around here are green. This particular trail goes over boardwalk through an extensive wetland with lots of standing water and algae and bird life. Then into the woods with the requisite granite and glacial erratics. Although I really like the concept of the 60 hikes in 60 miles in 60 months - the author of the book is annoyingly lyrical. Although trail pedagogy is not a bad thing, what we most need are clear and concise directions. The author has failed at both of these requisites for hiking guides, and we are already adding major mileage to the hikes because there's a lot of backtracking and doubling up as we second guess ourselves. And then to make it perfect, the dog decided to wade into the nastiest, smelliest, blackest muck lying off the boardwalk. Swamp thing. It's only cute until she sits on my lap. Then she just reeks. I considered a call to the groomer, but since James is coming for an autumn visit I figure I might want to hold off in case he introduces her to the local skunks like he did last year at about this time. I can stop complaining. Skunk up close and personal certainly puts swamp reek into perspective.

Gone to the Dogs

I worked this morning running a training and orientation thing and by noon I was ready to escape work for the remainder of the day. We had an invitation from New Hampshire friends D & K to hike with them. Although I was loathe to miss even one opportunity to knock off another of the 60 hikes I was equally loathe to pass up an opportunity to visit a place that this couple - avid explorers themselves - had found and were willing to share. So we packed the dog, water and snacks and hied ourselves up a side road that led to trails in a watershed/recreation area - Massebec I believe. It was brisk, sunny and possessed of interesting terrain. Lakeside rocks, plenty of trees and some suntraps where early young trees were showing full fall colors. Just one downside - a big downside, dog owners who are perfectly fine flouting leash laws and ignoring the broadly posted reminders to that effect. I don't get it. Perfectly lovely people turn into entitled jerks when it comes to their dogs. Since our dog was the victim of mauling we're probably expected to be a little more sensitive to that fact, but even our dogless friends had enough when four pony sized dogs came racing up the trail. We managed another shorter visit to an Auduboun center nearby, leaving the dog in the car - since wildlife sanctuaries are not doggy places (they stress out the nesting birds) but alas, we were the only ones who got the memo. The dogs were off leash here too. Sigh. I like dogs, I mean REALLY LIKE dogs. I just don't like dog owners.

Fortunately, the conversation was convivial, the pasta cooked the way I like it and the night cloudless and starfilled, so we redeemed our good moods after all. Salud!

The Road Ahead

After our work days ended Steve and I took the Indian Ridge hike from the house. Beautiful. The landscape and colors are changing almost hourly and the angle of the sun seems to be lengthening as quickly and the days are shortening. It was a perfect outing at the end of an almost perfect couple of days weatherwise.

As we walked along the winding path and boardwalks, I remembered that today is Rosh Hashanna, the Jewish new year and I loved that we were making our way into the woods as the year begins in the Jewish calendar. The road twists and turns and you can't see what's ahead. Only a little distance, but once you've traveled it? What then? Between now and Yom Kippur, the book of heaven is opened and you have a chance to put things to rest. Make ammends if ammends can and should be made, pay your debts, make your apologies and say your goodbyes. And on the day of Yom Kippur itself - in a day of fasting and prayer - one last catharsis and then you're done. The page is turned and you begin again with a blank one. A new page for the new year. I'll take that. I grew up in a faith tradition which had a sacrament of confession, and one would think that I would have felt scrubbed clean after a whispered confession, absolution from the priest and my penance of reciting the rosary. It never quite felt done though. No matter how vigorously I prayed, the books were being kept somewhere and there were plenty of black marks against me, along with a very clear message that G*D knew what I was up to. G*d and Santa actually. I kept getting the two confused. And I didn't get my moral compass from church. I learned right from wrong by trial and error and I don't think G*D could do nearly as much damage to me as I did to my self. I'm not sure about much when it comes to the mystery of creation and the mystery of an ineffable unknowable creator - but I can't believe that something that shaped the majesty of the cosmos gives a shit about my pettiness. It never had to live with my sins. I did. So turn the page. Do what you can to make those amends. And then let the past be the past. Start new. There a road ahead. A page to be written upon. A whole year to be lived.


So turn that page. Live that year.

Dinner with Jon

After a delightful drive through the Quabbin woodlands. I love 202 this time of year. The boy is well. The rat is well. And apparently welcome now. I didn't know that. I guess the roommate is "fine" with the rat. Good for them. All three of them.

Long Days

This was a work day. From early until late. I got in at 11:30, after a really great evening event - BUT a girl's got to get some rest. And tomorrow we have staff retreat for the seven program staff and the two administrators. I get to do "community building". Fortunately I have lots of props -really, all I ever need to do is show up with the rubber chicken and people are happy. I don't even have to DO anything with the rubber chicken. I just have to bring it. I can do that. Cluck. Cluck. And then if I'm not comatose, I drive out to see Jon. I'll be finding Field five all right. But the stuff I'm brining out for Jon? I'm not carrying it up to his room. He lifts weights. He can carry it. Up all five flights. I'll just . . .sit. . .and think about where we can go for dinner. . .

Smells of the Season

I can smell autumn. There was wood smoke in the air even when the day was warm and sunny. Pumpkin, apple and cinnamon baked goods must be on the menus of the shops and eateries nearby because I can detect those among the other cooking smells. There's a dry dusty smell of brittle leaves and a slightly sour one in the wet places where it is decay not dust to which things have returned.

We're getting denser produce from CSA. No more delicate lettuces, this week it's chard, and the shell beans have appeared with their coat of stippled red. I trimmed a turnip and held it under Steve's nose. "It smells like the earth" I said. "It smells like nothing" he said.

He's wrong. it smells like earth and autumn and the harvest season. Irish genes will out every day, either that or Steve fried his olfactory cells on all those years of garlic. Turnips are far more subtle. They have to be. They spend the year tucked under cover with scanty unimpressive foliage and usually make their way into stews much later in the season. They are winter food.

Although I've never verified this, folk tradition has it that turnips were carved into spirit lamps at Halloween, Samhain and All Souls to welcome the departed and light their way. They are far more durable than pumpkins, so I can believe that they served the purpose well in the damp Celtic lands where rot must come quickly to something as fleshy as a pumpkin. Turnips are perfect for the dark time of the year, whether as food or lights for the dead. As for now, night has deepened and the windows are closed against the chill, just the skylights open in our bedroom. Where it smells like autumn. . .

Monday Sea Lion

And the honeymoon is over at work. Today was particularly frustrating. I'm trying to support people and give them the tools to do the work they say they want to do, but really they want me to fix everything and make it work perfectly for them and they don't want to modify their expectations of what they can actually get if they're not willing to put themselves out there. Arrrrgh. A reality check after yesterday's high. Sea Lion. Blearp. Bleh. Blap. Sea Lion.

Okay, rant over. I am loving this weather. It's not really cool during the day, I'm still in shortsleeves and skirts, no tights - but night is cool and I'm snuggling under all the blankets and the heavy quilt. Steve and the dog are not, which is a problem because it's just perfect under one layer of blankets until Steve tosses HIS layer of blankets on top of me, doubling up my layers which IS too hot. And the dog is a warm little animal. Too warm for me this time of year. She can have all the cuddling she wants when it drops into the low forties at night. Mmmmm bedtime. Sleep. That's me, the party girl. Sleep IS a good time.

Opening Sunday, check

They like me. They really like me.

Technology Mitzvahs

Usually I reserve my awe for the miracle of bloom and the artistry of creation, but every now and then the miracle of technology catches me in absolute awe that such things are possible. I spoke with my daughter today, over a computer connection between rainy New England and southeast Asia. In my lifetime and no, I am not THAT old, I remember when that distance would mean letters that took weeks to arrive at either place and the very rare, very expensive international call over a crackling connection, so that every other word was lost. Today, with ease and no more planning than seeing an online icon next to a name, we were in voice contact. And it was good. A mitzvah* indeed. Amen, Shalom and Blessed Be.

*from the Jewish faith tradition; a worthy deed.

Friday on the Town

Because I worked at home all day, diligently in front of the computer, I took Steve up on his invitation to join him and his friend John H. for a beer at the People RepubliK in Cambridge. This would probably make the old comrades sit up and smile when they saw the outside, but cough up a hairball or two when they get inside. Although it's very pubby working class in terms of the design ambiance, the crowd was not. When we left, it had filled with Cantabrigian start up company youngsters, and no, we weren't the oldest in the place but we came close. The aging hippies at the bar took age honors, but the aging hippies in the corner (Steve and John) weren't far behind. We won the ponytail contest because John is still flying that particular hippie freak flag .

Then we walked up Mass Ave to an Eitrian restaurant where we had a great platter of Ethiopian food served up on injera bread. The injera was spongier than I thought it would be, sort of like a thick dosa, but good, with a sour fermented kind of leavened flavor. And then back to the car in the rain where I got really wet. We're hosting a mother and daughter from Oakland, via friends at the church out there, as the daughter returns for her sophmore year at P.A. They're nice, but almost as importantly they are motivating us to clean the basement - which Jonathan left in some disarray. Cousin Kate takes up a short term residence later in October when she's in the area for her internship at a Southern New Hampshire hospital. So many comings and goings at 63 this fall. All to the good, all to the good.

Rain

On the way, or so the weather forecasters have promised. Of course, they've been promising that for the last couple of days and they've been wrong so far. I would like to make a six figure salary for being wrong. I get paid much less for being right. Or, in my case, left, but never mind. Today was New England at it's glorious best. Windy, but not too much, coolish, but not too cold, sunny but not skin bakingly so. Love it. I saw most of the day from my windows at work, but I has morning and evening outings with the dog who loves the evening romp as much as I do. The morning romp, she's not so sure about.

One of the nice things about where we live is the proximity to the cemetery. Spring Grove is the home of some of our favorite walks. And it has been since we've lived here, all twenty years. Tonight the sun was beginning to vanish behind clouds by the time I got in from work, checked in with Steve and got changed to walking clothes. That combined with the hour of day - we're getting dark earlier and earlier these days - make for a mood walk. Lots of deep green, some yellow and orange scattered among the maples, and clouds starting to fill in. Nothing heavy or threatening cloudwise, rather milky streams across the sky that reflect sunlight in such interesting ways, (the picture above makes me think of a funnel guiding the day up and out - or perhaps that's the dark down and in) and make the sky seem soft and misty even when the air is dry. Since I'm working most of the next couple of days, I'm okay with a day or two of rain. It's restful. It washes the dust away and refreshes the colors. I just don't want it to stay for long. After all there's a book full of hikes we have to get to. . .

I love our President

Because he's so smart as he illustrated amply in tonight's speech on healthcare. I am disappointed in many things, chief among them his failure to sit the bratty boys in media and politics and tell em to knock it off. But no one can question his thoughtfulness, intelligence and level manner. But president or no, the bratty boys (and girls, don't forget Ann Coulter et al) can be pretty daunting especially for a reasoned soul. The lack of civility in our public debate has gone past appalling to the point where it makes governing almost impossible. And although I fault the media, right and left, I think our liberal politicians and our conservative ones have all failed at effective governance. They're so busy badgering each other or covering their respective a**es that a fraction of what could be getting done actually IS getting done. We expect the media to entertain us, it's what they do, but I (silly me) expected our elected representatives to do the work of running the country instead of covering the aforementioned a**es and keeping partisianship alive and flourishing. Democracy doesn't seem to be working so well these days.

And that's the end of my political rant du jour.

Back to Work

The kindness rock comes from the Dogtown hike. The only good thing about that hike - well, that and the hike being over and never repeated. I'm still bitter.

Back to work today. Yup. Work. And that's pretty much all I did. Except for a walk with the dog and a quick run to the market for dinner makings. Steve too. His class size is up to 31 kids as of now, and he hasn't even started school yet. That's tomorrow. We're both gearing up for the September business that comes every year, and since I sucked pretty much every moment I could out of summer, I don't mind a bit. It's good to stretch my brain again.

The most exciting news is that James Morgan has a co-production (with Mike Mallen as the principle) at a film festival in Tribecca in a couple of weeks. How cool is that???? It's called

EPIC:A Savage Journey and instead of writing and phoning this afternoon, I was looking up the New York Surf film festival where the opus will appear on the 25th of September. How cool is that?????? And bonus points, because James is coming home for a visit before and after he travels to NYC. Unfortunately it's sold out. I didn't realize surfing was that popular in . . .Manhattan. . .

A wrap for summer!

Labor Day, summer 2009 is officially at an end. I only had to look at my work calendar and see all the Saturday one off events for it to sink in. It's been a great summer, lots of outdoor living, lots of adventures, and for the most part, at the temperature I like best. Today was no exception to the temperature rule. We indulged in an end of summer barbecue at the Rhode Island Kelley's for the southern family and got to hang out with the youngest Kelley's of all. Caroline is tall and elegant and still best friend's with uncle Steve, although Patrick is rising rapidly in the favored male relative stats. (Patrick is, off to London to a master's in applied economics program in two weeks. That was fast. . .) Jack is not a baby anymore at almost two, also tall, more puckish than elegant, and quite content to give the strangers an occasional smile and accept pushes on the swing. Their parents seem happy, although Alisa is experiencing the special kind of misery that can only come with late pregnancy. Only two more months -even though it seems like forever.

And then because I'm competetive and compulsive, Steve and I stopped for a short hike through the Copicut woods, another one of our 60/60. Beautiful, in a diferent late summer kind of way. No color in the trees yet, but everything has that faded look that green leaves get when photosynthesis slows down at the end of the summer but before the fall color change begins. Lots of stone walls on this hike, lots of moss, old cart roads to and from no longer extant farms and cattle pens and lush shrubs and vines on the mown paths. Lots of poison ivy too, but we avoided that. Or at least I did. I can't speak for Steve.

Hike-Ku for Copicut Woods

Walls wending winding
Stone bounded roads meet and part
purpose forgotten.

Moving Day

Jon Morgan begins his most excellent adventures as a Sophmore this week at UMASS, which means only one thing. Load up the car, load up the rat, load up the boy and drive off into the wide blue yonder (it was today, quite bright and blue but more on that later). We did that very thing and made our way to UMASS at Amherst by noon, and although it was busy, it was well managed by lots of bright chirpy RA types. Traffic flow was fine on campus, it would have been helpful to know BEFORE I went to the last entrance that it was a one way day, feedback for next year. We get to the dorm and I wait in the illegal parking space while Jon goes and checks in and of course, he lives on the 5th floor and there's such a line by the one elevator that we just cowboy up and start up the five flights with heavy bags of Jon gear. I am fitter than many fifty somethings, but not nearly as fit as the weight lifting 20 year old. So huffing and puffing I went and on the way down for Belongings V 2.0 we meet the roomate, an affable kid named Matthew who then proceeds to lug Jon's amp up the five flights of stairs while I sherpa the rock star gear and Jon carries the fridge. And back down and back up and so on and so on and then I take Jon to CVS because I've been learning too much about H1N1 flu for work and decide he needs MORE hand sanitizer and a variety of fever and pain reducing medicines. Of course if he gets sick, he'll just come home. Barely enough room at UMASS for healthy students, forget about sick ones. Finally, I'm satisfied that my fledgeling has all that he needs, and more importantly wants me GONE so I head for home.

Since it's such a beautiful day, cool and sunny and I have a two hour drive to recover from the five flights of stairs, Steve decides we should walk when I get home. (Could be worse, there are seven floors in Field - the dorm). Steve thinks a walk to the ATM and home would be fine, but NOOOOO we have 54 of the 60 hikes left, so I find one more, this one close to home on the Indian Ridge esker. Off we go with the dog and mange to get lost and read the directions wrong and backtrack and walk more than the promised three mile loop, but it didn't matter because it was a beautiful day and we had the woods to ourselves and tomorrow is the last quiet day before work goes into high gear for us both. This weekend feels like a fitting end to summer as all of New England readies itself for fall.

Hike-Ku for Indian Ridge

Five swans at dinner
geese honking, crickets chirping,
Summer's end in song.

Outing Day

Hike-Ku for Halibut Point

Traffic, Dogs, People
Too many but still we walk
Waves, Rock, Silence. . . .aaaah

Hike-Ku for Agassiz Rocks

Poor babies. The ice
has left you waiting on edge
fifteen thousand years

Two more hikes out of the sixty hikes book. Check. Done. We were out on Cape Ann, at a couple of trustee's properties, one surprising and one that we have visited before. The surprising one was the Agassiz Rocks, short trail, up, down, up and over and then you're on top of the granite ridge with glacial erratics, big ones sitting there. The property is named for Louis Agassiz the guy who promoted the contemporary theory of glaciation and continental ice sheets, based on the kind of evidence he saw in his wanderings around the Alps and in New England. There were "little" rocks on the ledge and a "big" rock, tucked at the bottom of a swamp, almost cliff sized, but not anchored to anything local. I believe this particular rock is a guest from the Whites. Like a lot of others in the neighborhood. Hard to think of continental ice sheets on a sunny blue skies September day, though.

Since the Agassiz Rock hike was so short, we drove up to Halibut Point in Rockport. I've been there a number of times before, to hang out by the water on days when the beach wasn't an option. And it's lovely, but unlike other days when it's been us and the seagulls, the parking lot was packed, any number of European tourists were wandering around and we encountered a wedding rehearsal on the scenic vista lookout point. Hummanity strikes again and it brought it's cell phones with it. We did make it down to the rocks where we sheltered from the sun in the shade of big granite upright and watched the waves and the boats go by. A perfect end of summer outing before school and work begin in earnest this week .

Belated Birthday

Celebration for Steve. It's his 57th, or was on August 23rd, but I was in Vermont and he was eating cake in Manhattan with his family that night, so we had a belated celebration tonight. Birthdays are very low key around here these days, centering mostly on the epic meal and some form of harassment. Jon and I made sushi per Steve's request and a blueberry cake thing with . . . yes, but ONLY because it's his special day. . .chocolate ice cream. (That's just wrong) We then waddled to our respective corners and our respective books to wait for it to get late enough for bedtime. Boy can we party (this working for a living thing. . . certainly puts a cramp in the nightlife)

(This picture is from our travels this summer, I t!hink in the Northern Sierra, when I took it a few weeks before the birthday) Happy Birthday Steve. Enjoy the cake because we're going on a diet.*

*A few days ago I had a followup for some tests I'd had in August. It's fine- no cause for a freak out, but apparently I have fat infiltration of my liver. And I was told in no uncertain terms by the rather rotund, as in oompahloompah shaped, doctor that I needed to lose weight for the sake of my liver. I asked him how HIS liver was. Bleah. Time to go peel some carrots and trim some celery stalks.

Bleah. Sea Lion. Sea Lion.

Rites of Passage

Another rite of passage, sandwiched in between high school and college (my two youngest kids were late bloomers). Jonathan now has a valid Massachusetts driver's license. And a car to go with it. Thank you Sarah. That will do nicely for getting Jon back and forth from school.

It was relatively painless for Jon (I think). I on the other hand, as the sponsor, had to sit in the back seat and keep my mouth shut. Did I tell you I am not an asset during a road test? I am not an asset during a road test. I make squeaking noises and let our random gasps and before we were even out of the RMV lot the examiner told me "Don't make me fail him, Ma'm". I think he may have wanted to say more. Did I tell you I am not an asset during a road test? I'm not. But in spite of me, Jon passed with flying colors and then we went and waited an hour in order to pay for the license. One hour so we could pay for it.It took 2 minutes and a credit card. One hour. Geeze. Time banditry. We've been robbed. I could have used that hour. . .

20 years already?

Jon is that old. I am that old. Rascal is older than that if you're counting dog years. Birthdays are always a time to celebrate the gift of another year, in Jon's case doubly so. From that tiny premature wonder, he's been a delight and a challenge along the way (and continues to be - just like his siblings!!!!) but could you imagine our family without this face? And Rascal could never imagine life without Jon's nose to molest.

Birthday celebration was pretty low-key. They get that way when people get older. Jon's choice of takeout Chinese for dinner, my choice of healthy fruit tart or ice cream cake (couldn't choose, so I got both) for desert and a shopping trip to New Balance. To my great surprise, Jon the conservative dresser got a pair of hipster PF flyers. He'll be wearing skin tight jeans and motif tees next. He's off with friends to hang out and Steve, nursing a monster cold, and I will be in our jammies with books and soon to bed. There's the difference between being in your twenties and being in your fifties. Jammies and early bed is a great way to celebrate. So hooray for Jon and may the next twenty years be happy, healthy and fullfilling for him. Mazel Tov.

Harbingers

It's not official yet and it won't be official until Fall Equinox; this year on the 22nd of September somewhere around 5:20 p.m. But we have cool days and cooler nights and tonight while walking the animal through the cemetery, there were the earliest of autumn maple leaves on the ground.

I used to think of them as show-offs and "me-firsters" but in a more charitable mood these days I've decided that they're the harbingers of autumn. Their appearance means that summer is ending. Yes, we'll have more warm days, even some hot ones, but the backbone of heat is broken and the trend is toward cooler and the first frost and then the full foliage show that New England puts on every year. It's only September 1st, we've got weeks before the trees become colored torches, and winter gets closer but signs are in the air - well really on the ground. Red and yellow are the color of change in the air.