Have made it to fall break. Unfortunately, Isabella and Mythili do not have the same fall break as me. I will be spending the week volunteering in Isabella’s classroom and taking the girls to their annual doctor appointments. Woohoo, exciting times. Bruce and I will also probably pick out the tile that he will install–soon, I hope!–for the bathroom upstairs. And of course I will be baking apple pies, zucchini cookies, pumpkin bread, and canning one last round of apple sauce. I might slip in a few bike rides, and I must keep up with my University of Phoenix class, but that’s about as exciting as it gets this October.
Here is another poem I wrote in Kristen’s poetry group. This is the non-bitter one. 
Our Place
I am stuck in my own middle place
but not a child who still
wants my parents to care for me–
I am in the middle of who I am
and who I want to be
still trying to decide if I should
go with what I know
or take my favorite Frost poem
and ditch my BK
perhaps you can help me decide
if the yellow wood
is more beautiful
than the path that is so nicely worn
if those are aspen leaves
or just a regular set of trees
there’s only one way to find out
as I play with this poetry
that’s like tennis without a net
you can take my hand
and walk with me this way,
sometimes leading,
sometimes following,
sometimes carrying
and you and I will move from this middle place
to the end of the season,
where the leaves hold sparkles of snow
and the quiet is so loud we cannot speak
they will come too with their
boisterous voices and endless questions
and sticky hands and feet
and the only name that
I will name for the path we have discovered,
the home we have happened upon,
is the right place.
