The house across the street finally has come back to life after a year of stillness.

Not in a million years could I have dreamed that my new neighbors came cross country, from San Francisco, and in a city of a dozen Portuguese families, they are Portuguese. Parents from Setubal who have lived in San Diego for decades and have flown here to help their son with the new house. Needless to say, it was a fantastic surprise for us and since then our home has become "Uma Casa Portuguesa".

It's so good to share our common customs.




Familiar sounds have returned. Refreshing.

 

Scent of Fall

Summer is quickly coming to an end. The leaves are changing color and I plead with them to slow down. Slow down! I swear it seems that just yesterday I was shoveling snow.



The State Fair is a sign that summer is indeed ending. Children and their parents are already crowding the isles preparing for the beginning of the school year. These little rituals no longer make part of my life. They are merely like mile signs along the highway to let you know where you are relative to your destination.



So much to. So little time. In the old days, when I had a lot more energy, the short summer days were put to good use. Now, I race against myself only to realize that even my short expectations are not being met.