I have a lot of things to think about and a lot of things to do. Spending time on my blog is advancing none of those things.
My children are all, more or less, back in college. Embrace your lives. That's all I would really tell them. The time is much shorter than you think. You already know that people crash their cars, fall out of windows, succumb to cancer, waste away from regret. All of those possibilties apply to you as well. Find things you love and do them. Find people you love and be with them. Clean house on occasion. (The latter is not metaphorical advice. It is literal advice.)
I am reading Kristin Lavransdatter , and The Reluctant Parting (excellent book; not new material to me but a helpful perspective to a Christian teaching World History in a Jewish school), and The Gospel of Mark v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y (not my favorite of the four but it was, ahem, recommended)(KL was recommended by the same person at the same time. Those Jesuits.) and about a dozen other books.
In the Life's Coincidences (or not) category, I had just started KL when I was driving down to North Carolina a few weeks ago and flipped to a station playing music I recognized as something I had once known well, but could not for the life of me place. As I drove into the mountains of Tennessee and the station began to crackle away, I hoped desperately that an announcer would quickly make the piece known. It turned out, of course, to be Edvard Grieg's Peer Gynt Suites. I probably hadn't heard that music in 25 years, but I'm listening to it all the time now as I read Kristin Lavransdatter.
My students are engaged, to varying degrees, in the Sumerians and the Native American cultures of a millenia ago and British mercantilism. I have plenty of papers to read.
I am going to Pittsburgh and Chicago and Oregon this fall. Not bad for someone who broke the bank this past summer. Destroyed it, actually.
I might post some photos once in awhile. I've been playing with these (click to enlarge) from the Graveyard Fields trail in the Pisgah Forest. I would drive, and have driven, ten hours to stand in the exact spot in the Yellowstone Prong of the Pigeon River pictured above. And there's a spot a few minutes walk further, pictured below, that works perfectly when you need to sit on an ancient Appalachian slab where a silent pool lies before you and water sings over rocks behind you.
October 2. I might come back.