New beginnings.

Y'all. Almost a year ago, I was making this list. I was dreaming of doing things I've always wanted to do, and now I think I'm finally ready to start doing them. Follow along as I take initiative and start something.

September again.

And just like that, August is gone. September has begun with sudden rainstorms, breezy bike rides, Harvard Square, and another attempt at something I want to do. Full moons, peaches straight from the backyard, homemade pie crusts, the best pizza of my life, two basil plants blooming on the back porch, and a load of heirloom tomatoes from the Labor Day farmer's market in Central Square. They taste like candy, like the piles of tomatoes always on my grandparents' kitchen table, sliced up with pepper with every meal. Festa has come and gone and with it reminders of how much time has passed. The chill is under the breeze again, and I can feel myself hunkering down, preparing for the transition into winter.

Reminded.

It's been a tough week. Last Sunday we got news that a friend passed away in his sleep. Since then it's been a whirlwind of emotion, of hunkering down together in grief and support. I don't like being so far from my family, but this week I was reminded that is not entirely true. Today was the first funeral I've ever attended for someone so close to my age, so young and vibrant, full of humor and heart. I've been hugging Mike a lot more lately, and just generally trying to remember exactly what I'm grateful for.

From my phone.

Testing out posting on my phone. This is what mornings look like these days.

In the great outdoors.

I'm grateful for family, in all of its forms. For friends who are comfortable with fireside flatulents, willing to drive so many hours just to sleep on the ground and skip showers. For technology that lets me make my nephew laugh from 1200 miles away, and see how silly my niece is and what her latest favorite My Little Pony dance is and hear the lilt of my mom's accent while watching her look through the bottoms of her bifocals at me.

I'm grateful for feeling at home again and for not having to wait too long in between. For unexpected visits from good friends, long meals, and too many drinks. For such a good job that includes dental insurance and financial stability (finally, finally). Mostly I'm thankful for all of this, the constant motion, the ebb and the flow, of life torn a bit at the edges, lived and worn like a favorite book, an old sweatshirt.

On settling.

Moving into our own apartment has been one little exciting thing after another. We're still in the process of vacating our old apartment, dealing with the unprofessionalism of that management company, but knowing I get to come home to our own little corner makes the whole day wipe away as soon as I turn my key in the door.

Mike's been out of town a couple of days this week going to Yankee games and generally soaking up the rest of his summer vacation before his new job starts, so I've had a chance to get some alone time in our very own space. It's so lovely and quiet here. I loved being right in the heart of Inman--ice cream, pizza, post office, coffee shop, bus stop all within reach!--but there's something to be said about going a little off the beaten path where there are actual neighbors instead of bars and convenience stores. Our neighbors have a grapevine and peach trees that hang over the fence between us. I'm figuring out ways to befriend them so our end of summer can be cobbler and muffin scented.

What I love most.

I have this feeling like we could be anywhere, any time of day, and even if I've slammed my finger in the window, you will find a way to make me smile.