Yellowing grass and scorched leaves signal the approach of another school year. Something in the air has changed, and though we’re barely into our hottest month, summer slumps toward autumn. This summer was one of rain followed closely by heat. I knew that if the cabin weren’t built by June, it would have to wait.

Chuck will soon resume his two-hour commute, and we’ll hope for a mild Labor Day weekend to erect our tiny cabin. At the moment, the heat doesn’t matter much anyway: he’s got syllabi to construct and a couple articles to finish. His middle child will be off to college in two weeks, and there are plenty of last-minute preparations. The youngest has started daily band practice twice a day, and the eldest will be giving birth in early October.* It’s a season of change for our family, one only navigable with pause.

To a certain extent, we’ve hardly paused. The first steps toward a tiny cabin involve getting our current house in order. We’ve gone through boxes of computer cables, outdated paperwork, and old clothes. The laundry room is currently at a level of cleanliness that makes even my mother proud, and I’ve set up a cozy (albeit cluttered) home office.

It’s been sunup to sundown work, yet I’ve had more time to read for pleasure (Greg Brownderville’s Gust), crochet baby blankets, and, yes, play some old school Dr. Mario.

*Since writing this post, my step-daughter has had her baby–two months early! Though Alexander is only 3 pounds 15 oz., he’s doing well.