Even though I am half way to the grave from the cradle, I still look forward to the new rather than find solace in the familiar. The end of summer should be one of the great turning points into the new - moving into or from something. This fall, the kids get new teachers, we get to leave the unpleasant parents you meet from summer sports and the shock of a nippy morning warns that the leaves will change then soon go. But without onions to braid and beets to dig or new books to buy and cords to wear in, this year's new is not the usual.

Now through my second summer without an acre garden to finish up, without a course, papers, exams, I am trying to figure out what my autumn is supposed to promise? Since I was five only the falls of 1985 to '87, '92, '94 to '97, '03 have been without minor agriculture or even more minor academics. 12 out of 41 since birth and much of that from before I could ride a bike. I'll be 53 before I break even.