It's late September and I'm really glad I'm not in school.

The rhythms of the year are finally becoming familiar. I know that August brings cooler temperatures, membrillo harvest, the bluest skies, night rains and more avocado and mango than we can possible eat. Walks are finally pleasant again and not at dusk or dawn. By September, the corn is tall, humidity is high, lightening is prevalent in the late evenings and the flies are finally waning. When the pomegranate split, they're ready to pick and it's time for Chiles Enogada and independence day festivities.

Gram was here, we made chutney with the mango, played in the women's bodega and did a lot of sorting of essential beads and buttons. She started a quilt for Harvey made of blue jean pockets. The whir of the sewing machine and her muttering to herself about corners not meeting perfectly were background sounds as I prepped for my English classes.

Elyse brought Harvey down. It was like we were in suspended animation for a week so we could cluster around and watch him learn and laugh and grow. We swam almost every day and our routines were all around his naps. A well rested Harvey yields harmony in the home.

These were good months. I'm grateful for the years my schedule revolved around school, but uber grateful to be retired and living life at a slower pace.