In Britain, They Call It Autumn.

Living at home has me in a high school state of mind. Things pop into my head that I'd completely not thought about for ages. I'll be able to hear the marching band practicing in the evenings. I'll have to rake leaves. I'll peel apples and sleep with my window open and wake up shivering in the middle of the night. I'll maybe go to a football game, perhaps, and sit on the very end of the bleachers where hopefully none of my nosy-parker neighbors will spot/interrogate me. I might actually run the cross country course, if they ever smooth out those fields.

And there are other things. I'll baby-sit, and teach Julia to read. Right now she gets her th- sound and sh- sound mixed up, so when she reads 'that,' she says 'shat,' and I almost pee in my pants.

I'll keep taking yoga and get ultra bendy. I'll take out stacks of books from the library, and never have to pay a late fine. To be fair, I've been doing that all summer, but I've never done it in the fall before.

Dudes! I'll see Rilo Kiley with my pals! Never ever done that before, and probably never will again, if that utterly unsettling Spin article turns out to be true. (http://www.spin.com/features/magazine/covers/2007/08/0709_rilo_kiley/)*

I'll drink pumpkin spice beer, and drive through the Reservation when it's at its fall spiciest, but I won't do those things at the same time.

And I'll wait for you to visit me, which I've certainly never done.



*My link option isn't working.