** sigh **

Summer's definitely getting on . . . I've been noticing, the past few days, that the sun is much farther south than it was even a few weeks ago (especially a few weeks ago, I guess). I was telling this to my friend Jim yesterday, and he mentioned that he's aware that it's getting dark a lot sooner. He was bemoaning the fact that he hasn't yet had any vacation this summer, and it seems, now, almost to be over.

I've had plenty of summer, but as always, it feels as if I've done only a fraction of what I'd planned to do. There's plenty of time left, to be sure - but what I need to do from now on in is attend to the serious business of relaxing . . . (I realize that for the non-academics in the audience, that statement sounds absurd.) I need to schedule as many Pool Days as I can; I need to get on a regular exercise schedule (traveling plays havoc with exercise); I want to make another attempt to start losing the 10-15 pounds I thought I'd lose this summer (traveling plays havoc with diet) . . .

And I have to gear myself into work mode, too. My hand there has been somewhat forced, since there are major revisions due on the master syllabus for the business writing class, and I'm supposed to do them. I've also realized, based on last year's experience, that I need to have far more material prepared in advance of the semester, especially in the online course, so I can spend my time responding to students instead of creating instructional materials.

So I've gotta get the syllabus nailed down today, which might eliminate the pool . . . but I definitely plan on spending lots of time poolside reading textbooks and devising quizzes for the online crew. The plan is, I'll work in the morning and swim in the afternoon - but already today the work is devouring the afternoon. Gaah. I should have started that syllabus earlier.

Oh, well. This is a minor issue, I know (and I truly do feel it's minor). It's work, but it's work at home or at the pool, and I'm around to drive Emma here and there if she needs it, and to talk to Charlie when he comes in at odd hours, and I can still plan a few getaways here and there. There's still time to take the canoe out, now that I've got the new roof racks . . . I'm thinking that next summer, when the unmistakable signs of the waning season occur, I should take it as a signal that it's time to ease into work again . . . nothing more terrible than being at Full Tilt Boogie mode when the cicadas really ratchet up their song in August, and realizing every morning that it's soon going to be over . . .