The dog-day cicadas at the top of their lungs

Slept late today. Very late. Unconscionably late. So late I am too embarrassed to say how late. And when I will happily admit to sleeping till noon on many weekends without embarrassment, that will give you some idea just how late.

Oy.

Still feeling very quiet. Summer is winding down and the fall semester begins in just two weeks (and a day). Hard to believe. I do love fall, and back-to-school sales (which make me crave notebooks and pens and bookshelves and new shoes), and despite how chaotic this town gets when thousands of students arrive, I do love it when they all come back.

Had a note from the folks at Blackbird today -- there is potentially going to be something very interesting in their November issue (besides my poem). More on this as it develops -- fingers crossed.

Outside it's almost dark, and there's a small brown rabbit in the driveway. There are at least a couple of these little guys living in my yard. Most mornings I see one or both of them when I get in the car to go to work and I always say hello. Hi, bunny. Hi little white tail. They never say hello back at me though. In fact, usually they run.

I am in a funny in-between place, but I'm not sure what I am in between. Perhaps I just need to drink more coffee.

And if I want to write, I need to make myself sit down and write. Because you can't write if you don't write. You know?