This afternoon I will drive north to band practice, and perhaps along the way I'll see the leaves starting to redden. Here in Portland, all I notice is a vague yellow shriveling more like August drought than October color.
The humidity has ticked up, and a warm breeze is blowing into the doll-house from the bay. I spent yesterday in a meeting about an upcoming teaching residency, then editing some manuscripts, painting closets, and trying, without success, to stay awake to listen to the Yankees-Twins game. I also found out that, no surprise, I did not win the Autumn House Prize. On the other hand, I was invited to judge the state Poetry Out Loud competition next spring. And my parents sent me two boxes crammed with wrapped birthday presents, so now the doll-house looks like Christmas.
Today I'll edit, and vacuum up cat hair, and listen to a bunch of songs we might be working on at band practice. I'll try not to fret about my manuscripts.