I'm out on my porch, listening to the crickets, happy for the soft breeze. We are poised here between summer and what comes next. Not fall exactly. Something kinder, more alive. School has started but it's been so hot this week that fact is hard to comprehend. And, now, as if on cue, a hurricane is threatening to ruin our weekend, or at least the beginning of it. Earl. Uncle Earl as someone on Facebook referred to it.

Perhaps this is all so dramatic because I am without a job for this moment. I am no longer a face of my02818 and that's sad. I've really really enjoyed my time there. This morning, a woman in the neighborhood stopped to give me a story idea. Of course, I was happy to get it and I passed it on to Bob. Passed it on, because it wasn't going to be my story. That's terrible.

I want to be able to be that person again, that person who writes about East Greenwich. Maybe someday.