Just bee.

Well, if you haven't heard... I'll be Professor Chicken by the end of this month. Ok. I'm teaching one class at the University of Pittsburgh at Greensburg. (From where I graduated about... ugh... 4 years ago.) Wow. Anyhow, it has me working some serious tail feathers, along with my arty art projects and cooking and sweating (the humidity this way has been obnoxious) and and and still trying to keep up any sort of motivation to do normal things like grocery shop, clean Mr. Winston's cage, or sleep. Summer-induced insomnia. Nice.

But fall is coming! Are you pumped? It's my favorite, even if it is cliche. These last few days, the air just feels like fall, you know? To me, it is so much more fresh than spring. Spring is mud and melted snow and rain and mud. And while Tash finds it depressing, the upcoming leaf-falling season gives me this strange feeling in my tummy—like butterflies with dumbbells tied to their wings. And THEN this whole montage of flashbacks (haunted houses, sipping cider, carving pumpkins, etc.) plays in my head with the reflective yet raspy backdrop of "It's a Wonderful World." Ha. It's not that serious, maybe, but it is that corny.

I took this little snap when Tash and I went to visit Amy in Lancaster (Lan-cus-ter: she'll beat you if you don't say it right). We were hiking somewhere crazy (up RT 81, I believe)... and the whole forest floor was covered like this. It was like a dream...

Speaking of dream. That's one huge pumpkin. Note the text on the little white one (and squash). Totally didn't see that.

What's your favorite season? I find Winter-lovers interesting. I like Winter... for like a second. 

Ahhh... I better crash.

mpt