Summer: Fri., 9/1

Today started off dramatically, when we were rear-ended on the Saw Mill Parkway, where we then sat for an hour after calling 911 while the cops filled out an accident report. The car that hit us was totally at fault, and the driver was unlicensed, and they were possibly not even documented citizens, and the whole thing was upsetting not just because our year-old Volvo had the bumper smashed up but because after some friendly chit-chat with the cops we eventually just continued driving on to NH while the others had to have their car towed and face who knows what further punishments. It was all very very unfortunate. Facing our privilege and all that. No one was physically hurt, at least.

We did finally make it to NH, and it's true fall up here--it was in the low sixties when we arrived. We ate dinner outside, but we were all pretty chilly. The heat is on in the house. Summer disappeared overnight.

A funny Greta-ism to turn conteract the unhappy car-accident news: Now, before bed each night, we have an elaborate goodnight-saying ritual with Pot Belly, Wee (her lamb), and Ginger (her gingerbread man). Each of them hugs and kisses me in turn, and each announces that they love me "From the moon to the dirt." It's so utterly unpoetic but so adorable. And I, of course, have to declare my love for the animals and then for Greta, from the moon to the dirt.