Remembering September

October is the 10th month of the year (it was the 8th month in the Roman calendar, hence the Octo part of the name that stuck) and one of seven months with 31 days. By now most of us are pretty settled into Fall. Here in Florida, it means we're starting to leave our doors and windows open in the morning and evening to take advantage of the first few cool breezes.

During October we celebrate such things as Columbus Day and Halloween, but also lesser known days like Apple Day, Freethought Day and Leif Erikson Day.

But today, on the first of October, people will look at each other and say, "Where did September go? Can you believe it's October already? It'll be Christmas soon!"

I know where my September went. I wrote 35,000 words that month. Celebrated my dad's birthday. Enjoyed the company of my visiting family. Saw a friend get married. Watched my niece perform in Cinderella. Took a trip with my husband and made some new memories.

All in all, September was a good month and while it did go by fast, it went by packed full of good times. My September feels well spent. How about yours?

September Maybe

I have always been fond of September, and never for the same reasons as most. Or maybe that's in my head. Most people I know associate September with autumn, although we don't enter fall til late in the month. Of course, leaves do begin changing and hurricanes come to my part of the world. But in spite of the month hosting the equinox, which brings a season most associate with endings, I always feel a great deal of hope and renewal in September.

That's probably because we go back to school in this month. Even though my school days are done, I still love that feeling. A new school year is all about promise, potential, and opportunity. It's a clean slate. New clothes, new supplies, new teachers, new class-mates... and a chance to make this the best year yet. Let's face it, most of us found the bloom off the rose a few weeks in. By Columbus Day we'd be watching clocks and drifting off into daydreams during Sociology. The cute guy had said something awful. The former-not-so-b-ff was the new frenemy.

But September was pre-let-down. September was all about possibilities. I glance out the window even now and the leaves have not yet turned. Earle was, it turns out, a big dud. So if nights get cold soon we'll begin to see glorious colors. And maybe the cute guy will smile in stead of sneering. And maybe the BF really WILL be F. And maybe this autumn will go on record as the best ever. And maybe...

It's all about the maybe. I'm very, very fond of the promise in maybe.

Welcome, September. And thanks for the MAYBE!

My Secret Semptember Shame

It's my favorite time of year, for lots of good reasons. But I'm going to share with you, gentle reader, the really freaky reason. I have a problem. I'm obsessed with something a little weird and I can't get the monkey off my back. And the sick thing is a lot of us-- writers-- share the addiction. So back-to-school time is tough. The ads are everywhere. There's no way to hide from them...

SCHOOL SUPPLIES

Oh my word... they call to me like candy. Bright, shiny, colorful-- like prettily wrapped jewels designed to catch the eye of a deranged magpie like myself. Sparkly! Shiny! Bright and fancy and NEW!!!

So seductive. The little cellophane tabs in purple and blue and pink? Oh my. I could organize my plot book with those. The hard-back theme notebooks defying conventional black and white covers with swirls of bold print in lime green, orange, teal? My character sketches want to live in them like modernized condos for fiction. The brand new packs of unbroken crayons? Magenta and cyan blue and vandyke brown--- ooooh they're calling me!


I didn't like school much til I moved on to college. College became my place to blossom and I loved it. But I've always had this secret... this shameful yet diliriously delicious addition to all things paper, pencil, and pen related. Blank pages have always made me itch. Freshly shaved pencil wood gives me shivers. Turn my palm and you will find a lifeline pock-marked with blue dots-- the scars of pencil led driven into my hands as I furiously erased something I'd sketched. I cherish them: battle-scars of a young artist.

So while many of you may be in mourning as the summer comes winding down with a wistful sigh, I am all ajangle with joy. It's school supply season. I can smell the ink on the wind! Bubble-gum-like pencil sharpeners and ice-cream colored triple folders beckon me. I'm hooked. I admit it. Get out of my way, I need to get to the closest Target NOW!