August -- gone

There is just over an hour left in August of 2013.

Quite a month.  It is so precious here in new England, and it goes by like a breath of salt air off the ocean.  Gone.

What happened this month, beside the world almost having everyone go to war again because a few crazy people can't share power?

I didn't work almost all of August.  More than ever I really enjoyed not going to the office.  The patients are all important and worth the effort, but the system has become even more complex and burdensome, and the big insurance companies continue to find ways to pay us less, and then blame it on Obama.

I did spend a lot of time with some crazy people, but they were not my patients, so I could just let them be interesting and let them prattle on about their views of the world, themselves and whatever it was they found so meaningful. Noy my problem.

Today was my daughter's birthday and, as it happens, my daughter-in-law's birthday, which makes things a bit hectic.  But now, to add to the confusion, my newest grandchild, and first grandson, was born yesterday.  He is a big, healthy boy, with two tired, proud parents and an almost two year-old sister who is still trying to figure out why her life is suddenly so different.

So the world reamins it's complex, unfiar, unaring, often cruel place, but my immediate, tightly knit, cloesely guarded spot in it remains remarkably, happy, prosperous, and almost all very healthy.

But now August is gone.  It is  that sweet, melancholy time when the light becomes sharper and golden, when things start up again and become more serious.  We put away the hammock and the kayak, and wonder where the time went.  We didn't get to take that five mile walk to the end of land to the lighthouse for the fifth year of planning to do so. I did paddle across Pleasant Bay.  I did take the girls to the beach and run in and out of the water, and in and out of the water, and in and out of the water.

Hopefully we will do it all again next year, with the boy sitting in the sand, and we try to stop him from eating it.