"September seemed to be cut short this year . . . . "
- Angel's songs, by Paige Aufhammer

September is such a darling month, and this past one has been so especially kind to me that  I feel a little churlish for not posting during it at all. I had a lovely afternoon tea at a cute little tea place in Ellicot city, drank compressed pu-erh that had been packaged in an old tangerine skin, ate chocolate cake provided by kind coworkers, enjoyed a frightfully bright  bouquet of daises, and spent a quiet little weekend at the beach.

 The only things I didn’t do, really, were sew, post, or make progress on the insurmountable mountain of reading I have left to do for the year. Well, the last one is only half true – I am halfway done with a book about Magellan. The book is unbelievable. It’s written in a style reminiscent of a certain era in children’s literature, something between Kipling’s Just So Stories and Nesbit’s Enchanted Castle. And the redundancy! If he mentions one more time the fickleness of Portugal’s king, or draws attention again to Magellan’s limp, I really don’t know what I shall do. Laugh, probably, for I can see that under other circumstances the absurdity of the author’s style would be quite amusing. Mountain climbing is no laughing matter, however, and I keep thinking he could shave about a hundred pages off if he stopped repeating himself.

And so that’s how October is starting for me. Cold and dreary and gothic, just as I like it. I like feeling warm and snug and well provided for in my little house while the rain blusters about, and the only small shadow looming ahead is that I have managed to book myself up right through the end of the month. In fact, there is one particular Saturday on which my presence has been requested for no less than three events. It cannot be a complaint, not exactly, but I must stop and wonder at myself – me, a homebody – for gallivanting about during this delightful “stay indoors” weather.

Here’s to lovely evenings-in and friends worth going out for!