I don't believe that you should “dance like nobody's watching.” I think that you should remember that people probably are watching, and that you might just look like an idiot as you flail around carelessly.

Earlier this week, Rose cooked the most amazing meal for the two of us. Before I describe it, let me just say that I don’t cook. I am a fierce enjoyer of food, but I really am no good at all at cooking. My point is that while I love to eat wonderful food, it takes a lot before I actually go so far as to analyze and lovingly describe a meal. The other night, I reached that point, so here I go.

Rose prepared artichokes, stuffed with meat and cooked in a tomato-garlic-etc. sauce that she whipped up (she can do that—just whip things up—and they taste good). It’s an old meal, a preparation that’s been around forever, one that she grew up with. It’s “peasant” food; it’s just the kind of meal that’s really good for your soul. Very tactile; eating those leaves you just can’t help but get your hands messy. It’s one of those meals that makes you laugh as you eat it…so good, an experience. Coupled with a great wine: formula for an incredible evening. I was lying in the middle of the floor laughing after dinner; it wasn’t from the alcohol.

A few days ago I drove around campus looking around, saying to myself, "Oh, I've been there," or "Oh, I haven't done that yet." As I was doing this I realized that I'm really going to miss Cornell. It's the combination of the quality of the institution and the sheer beauty of the place that creates this emotion. The large, sprawling campus is nicely broken into smaller exterior spaces, nearly all of them pedestrian-oriented. People walk everywhere--the foot dominates the tire by far. Nearly all of the buildings on campus are fine examples of their architectural style: traditional, modern or post-modern. Vegetation abounds, and views are carefully constructed. It's truly a "human" place.

Today in the Southern Tier the weather was beautifully gray and rainy, and appropriate for remembering things. For me, it was the first day of fall.

What I have learned this summer: to respect slugs. Here you see a California Banana Slug in the bottom photograph, and a Standard-Issue New York Slug on top. We say hello to the gray slugs every night coming home (very careful not to step on them!) and in the morning we observe the beautiful trails they have left across the sidewalk, which look like strands of crystal.

Rose: simultaneously showing her undying patriotism and expressing the irony of sitting on a flag that has been fashioned into a patio-chair with beer-cozies.