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Can we just jump to January please? - 2014-11-14
A (don't kick the) Bucket List - 2014-10-28
Put THIS in your pipe and DON'T smoke it! - 2014-10-23
Max, Wolf, and the goats - 2014-10-15
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9:36 a.m. - 2011-09-07
We all FALL down.

There's far too much that's new for Wolf to make any coherent statements about his first day at high school, but I saw his schedule, read the promo literature from most of his teachers (some haven't given theirs out yet), talked with him about lunch and the bus and whether anyone recognized him from elementary school. So far it all looks fine. The big 'Wolf Sage Goes to High School' story will have to wait until there's more to report.

Mick had a good Opening Day too. He finally got the work schedule he'd been angling for since 2006. Mick's change of attitude and his learning to be a positive advocate for himself has paid off. He now works from 8:30 to 4:30 and is thrilled. No more overlapping times in the bathroom, no more Wolf and Mick caroming off each other trying to get out the door. Now Wolf's gone before Mick even has to get up. Should make for much peace in the house and easier days all around.

It's funny in discussing Wolf's class year with Mick this morning (Class of 2015!) I realized that from now on all my big events will come through other people. I'm never going to graduate from anywhere. I'm married, so no showers or wedding stuff. I'm never having another kid. I'm never going to retire from a real job and get a gold watch. Eventually Mick will retire and I'll make him a party. And Wolf will graduate high school and hopefully college and I'll cater those events. One day he'll marry and likely produce offspring and those will be special to me, of course. But me? I'm done. Even my 50th birthday isn't going to be anything, Mick had his 50th a couple years ago and has declared 50th birthdays are overrated and no big deal so I should shelve any dreams and drama about it. It's just a day.

Well, not every O'Gaelic feels this way. SIL's 50th is in a couple weeks and her hubs is making her party at their country club. BIL's pretty stoked about it. He's been gathering baby pictures and tracking down her pals from high school and college, and happily arranging all sorts of other surprises. I'm looking forward to the party even with Mick's grumbling about how all this fuss is stupid and pointless. I like parties.

But it's still weird to me that I've become an adjunct to other people's big deal events and have none of my own anymore. Heh, there's still the end of menopause to look forward to. I know technically 'menopause' is the time after you've stopped menstruating for at least a year, but getting through and finally finishing this excruciating wind-down to it is definitely something I'm gunning for. So what do you know? I still have an event of my own. Do they make "Hooray! You're finally off the rag!" greeting cards? (*snicker*)

Despite the endless %&*# rain the cellar is staying dry, thank goodness. It's for damn sure I am absolutely over rain. Good-bye, rain. Please go away for a while. You've completely overstayed your welcome.

What is welcome is what seems to be an abrupt entrance into autumn. Perhaps it'll dry up and get really warm again, maybe a week or two of Indian summer. (Do we have a new name for this yet? Is 'Indian summer' racist? Or is it still okay? Please discuss.) I adore the fall. Be hard pressed to find anyone who truly hates autumn. Some folks dislike it because it means the long dark winter is closing in, but as for hating the fall itself? Nah. Everybody likes fall.

Fall is the major reason I won't live anywhere with no seasons ever again. Time in Texas was weird. It just melted away. Every 100+ degree day blended into the next. I mean winter was a joke. Big whoop, three weeks when the temp dipped below the century mark. Celebrating Christmas in a t-shirt with the windows open totally sucked. With no real discernable change in the seasons I never really knew when it was. It's 100 degrees, dry and windy? Could be April. Could be November. Who could tell? Not me.

But here on the southern edge of New England we get all four seasons in almost equal amounts. It's heavenly. Except for the occasional winter that hangs on too long, mostly by the time I've had my fill of whatever season it is things change. Never gets dull. Never slips into that mindless sameness that erases Time and turns months, even whole years into an unmarked blur of blah. I love, love, love having seasons. And I love fall most of all.

This morning I gleefully slipped into my sweats. Put on thick socks. Blew a kiss at the thermometer outside the kitchen window because it stood at a wonderful 55 degrees. Filled my tea kettle and dug out my favorite mug, the big hand-thrown one my friend Ray the Potter made for me years and years ago. My inner Julia Child started day dreaming about soups and pot roasts and stews.

So, I might be DOA when it comes to any milestones and future big deal events for my own self, but today I'm celebrating a nice thing from Mother Nature and that ain't too shabby.


To the kitchen! There must be apple crisp ASAP! ~LA

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