Tick-Tock Goes the Clock

The summer is winding down. You couldn't tell from the temperatures, but all other signs are pointing in that direction. Back-to-school sales are in full swing and the roads are packed with travellers on the way to either drop off kids at college or to hurry through their Last Hurrah vacations.

In the Sleepy home we're starting to realize that school is indeed sneaking up on us. Tim starts back on the 27th. I start back the 6th of September. And somewhere between now and then I'd really like us to finish painting the hall (nothing's been done since our initial foray - so the entry looks great, but it's just a startling contrast to the stairwell that now looks worse than ever) and then there's the Idea Paper Draft that I had scheduled to turn in on 18 August.

Oh yeah.

The deadline was (is) arbitrary - but I know I need to get the process rolling, because it's unlikely that I'll have/make/find the time when I'm whacking through the homework associated with 10 credit hours of graduate school. So I think that may be my plan for Saturday.

Except, of course, that this Saturday is supposed to be cooler and beautiful and I should, at a minimum, take a look at my garden and see if I can't dig out the tree that randomly started growing right smack in the middle of my dahlia. And maybe try to dig out the rose bush that waved its little white flag earlier this season, then promptly turned the most unappealing shade of brown. The shade of brown that virtually screams, "Help me! I have died from neglect because the person who planted me should not be given charge over growing things." (Secretly I was almost glad to see this particular bush die, as of the six I planted this is the only one with thorns that rival shark teeth. The thorns, of course, are still thriving.)

On the positive side, perhaps this means that the final three semesters of school (well, 3 for me if I am speedy with my dissertation, only 2 for Tim) will zoom by. Because waiting at the end of those semesters is not only satisfaction for a job well done or simply freedom from organized schooling for another little while, but also the promise of a rambling vacation to rival all others. But perhaps that's a story for another day.