Summer is nearly spent. It’s peaceful to watch all that was vibrant gently fade into the colors of fall. It’s a little melancholy, too, I must say. Not only are the sights different, the air is different, too. There is a hint of coolness. And the sounds. I hear the low buzz and hum of crickets outside my window as I type. I cannot imagine living anywhere else. The change of seasons is what keeps me going. I can relate to these changes. By now, I expect them. But they always inspire me.

I am eating a Bartlett pear as I type — one of the few edible ones from my struggling old pear tree out back. Truthfully, all my fruit trees are in some degree of struggle. I was lucky to get what fruit I did. They all seem to have a fungus (from what I read and investigated), which is probably caused by wet spring seasons and lack of pruning over the past years. It’s hard to watch so many apples (my trees were loaded this year!) drop, still immature, to the ground. Oh, I test them. Don’t worry. They are kind of edible. But they lack that fresh apple taste. Not really worth cooking up a batch of anything with them. But I do pluck a few light green, not-quite-golden apples from the tree as I tool around on the riding mower. It makes me happy to snack on them, even if I take just a few bites.

School has started again. And my original goal was to have my house in perfect shape by now. Meaning, all new flooring completed, furniture in place, boxes emptied, Pod returned, and most of all — all of us sleeping in real beds, like off the floor! Ahh .. it didn’t quite pan out like that. But progress is being made. All my new flooring (vinyl plank downstairs, carpeting upstairs) is completed. M kids have been sleeping in beds for the past two weeks; my bed is ready as of last night. (Yay!) Importantly, my computer is finally up and running.

There are still boxes. Always boxes. And my furniture is in random places throughout the house. For instance, my dresser is in the living room, Rhianna’s dresser is still in the Pod. There is a loveseat on the back porch, and my sewing table is in the kitchen. It’s not perfect, folks. Now I’m shooting for Christmas. I would love to have things looking good around here for the holidays.

To say I don’t stress over this would be a blatant lie. Ask my mom. Ask my daughter. I am trying to tackle pieces as my time and energy allow. This weekend was really productive, and I made some decent headway. I have a full week ahead, so I’m likely to be a weekend warrior when it comes to getting this house in shape. It’s all good, though.

One box at a time. They aren’t going anywhere.