summer's dead

I haven't been very interested in blogging lately (it' been making me feel a little too white, if you know what I mean, and anyway I'm busy) but things are happening, times are changing (though perhaps not as much as we'd like) and it's time to turn over a new, old autumnal leaf upinhere. To wit, last night Chase and I took the boy to his very first Montessori open house, in preparation for his first day of school THIS TUESDAY (eep)! En route, I was trying to put my finger on exactly why I was nervous--after all, it wasn't my back-to-school night--and then I realized that attending parent-teacher night as The Parent was easily the most adult thing I've ever done. And yet, confusingly, the experience was punctuated with waves of sensory nostalgia that left me feeling sharply in tune with my six year old self: the scent of school children in sneakers running around a poorly ventilated gymnasium in late august; the spaghetti dinner served buffet-style on folding tables wrapped in butcher paper; the floral mélange of mom-and-teacher-perfume… it was all so much! Sort of intense for a while. Plus it was quite a change, being surrounded by all those children, as I've gotten pretty used to bb-boi being the only little guy around (or for that matter, the only anybody around). I guess I don't know what I'm trying to say here. I've got an in-between-y feeling, like the scene's about to change and I'm experiencing the present moment from a distance. It's weird! It's a detached, late-summer, middle-of-nowhere sort of feeling…  for those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, this children's editorial by Oliver Spies for the No. 44 issue of Milk Magazine, entitled "Hockney's Pool," captures it perfectly.  

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