This month has not been my friend, which is sad to write — October has always been my favorite of the year’s twelve.  This has nothing to do with the fact that my birthday is in it, happily waving to me from the end like a finish line’s shiny ribbon.  No, I like October because it’s the autumniest of the autumn months: the leaves haven’t yet fallen and still cling to their trees like gobs of glorious confetti; it’s cool enough for scarves but not cold enough for mittens; and even on rainy days everything still seems so colorful and lush.  Come November the leaves all but give up, crashing to the ground with an almost audible bang; I spend half my mornings looking for my left glove, only to find that it’s somehow got a massive hole in the thumb; and from the corner of my eye I can see the dreadful gray winter approaching like a conquering army.

Still, this October has caught me unawares and bewildered — I’ve got an unprecedented amount of just plain stuff going on, swirling around my knees and feet like my beloved leaves caught in a chilly breeze that’s threatening to flip up my skirt.  Both professionally and personally my life’s got entangled in a bit of upheaval; while I try to sort it all out I promise to write as often as I can.


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