August

After a leisurely July, August is picking up speed. There's suddenly a lot to do--the Irish fair, my mother's birthday, fit in a baseball game or two. The State Fair is coming right up, and then Labor Day and the madness of the Republican National Convention, which will not be in Minneapolis, despite what you might hear from Katie Couric and Larry King, but which will be right here in downtown St. Paul.

I might have to work. We are all on call all of Labor Day weekend, just in case.


It has been a gorgeous summer, a Boscoe summer--golden days with low humidity, cool nights that are made for sleeping and not for tossing and turning in twisted sweaty sheets. No AC required.

We are taking Boscoe up hills every morning, slowly, to work those back legs and strengthen those puny muscles of his. Because right after August comes September, which means another week of hiking up north. When we come home again, it will be October--crisp days, chilly nights, pumpkins and candy corn...


But I'm getting ahead of myself. It's still August. Let's all be like Boscoe on a hill, and sloooowwwww down.