Even though it’s named after the Princeps.
I’ve never had much time for August.
Where I come from, school ends in the middle of June.
So by the beginning of August, you have already endured six weeks off.
What kid needs two and a half months of vacation?
And as an adult, I usually worked during August.
Because that’s when my colleagues with kids had to take time off.
Then in September, it would be my turn.
Istanbul. Very nice!
I will get through this month somehow.
Boston is still filled with delights.
Had a charming stroll by the Charles over the weekend.
And Bob and I continued our Monadnock training on Sunday.
At a gorgeous spot called Ward Reservation.
In North Andover, Massachusetts.
Grandson Jay made sure we didn’t go astray.
Lovely view of the Big City!
But it’s so hard for me to wait until September.
As it always has been.
September is the big month for my family.
My parents’ anniversary.
And my father’s birthday.
As well as Linda’s and mine, only six days apart.
This year we will be together in Maine.
After a 20-year separation!
It will be epic.
And the fall foliage up there should be spectacular!
But I mustn’t peak too early.
On Wednesday evening, I will walk over to Boston Common for this delight.
This will no doubt tempt me to return to London next month.
To go here.
Dare I risk submitting to the whims of the Border Farce?
I’m hitting Fenway Park again on Thursday.
For this mayhem.
I figure if I get moshed in the pit, those nice Chinese ladies will straighten me out on Friday.
OK, August might be fun after all.
But it will always be a test of patience.
August, die she must.
September, I’ll remember.