All things on earth point home in old October: sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, the lover to the love he has forsaken.
~Thomas Wolfe

There were weeks of sunny days, endless, and now it seems days on end of clouds. I have a thousand deadlines. I'm not sure when my job switched over into neverendingdizzyingpace mode, but it happened somewhere around the six month mark. Now I feel at home--this is the way it always was with teaching. And I'm crazy.

Greg and I walk before sunrise, my girl and I argue about the nature of evil, my son wants to cuddle (how much longer on that one? i wonder). It's fall break. The kids are off but I still work, holed up in my bedroom of all places--my office is in the family room with too many kids milling around.

We're on a Best of Saturday Night Live jag around here. The other day, the best of Mike Myers. Tonight, Wayne's World. It bridges the gap between 11 year old tastes and fourteen year old pickiness. I have to say the sketches are mostly harmless--every once in a while we have to fast forward, or I yell, ineffectively, Close your eyes!! Still, we laugh together, and that is something, indeed.