Here we are mid-October. My thirteen-year old nephew is playing fall ball, the fall baseball league for middle-school boys. On the league are all the boys who have chosen not to play football, and so my nephew is hitting clean up and batting somewhere in the 800's, at least according to his somewhat suspicious calculations. (He tried to explain to me how he got a triple in his last game without making contact with the ball or any errors on the part of the other team.)

My two youngest nieces, eight and five, are cheerleaders for the first time. The eight-year old cheers and though she does not seem to be the master of voice projection, she is proficient at the attitude and head-snap of much older cheerleaders. The five year old is really too young to cheer, but they put her on the squad as mascot and she has a sweatshirt and gets to shout and clap alongside the older girls.

My eldest niece, a junior in high school, does not leave her room without a book and a pen. The weather has cooled enough where I finally feel confident enough to put my window air conditioners in storage and an extra blanket on the bed. Mister President wakes up a half-hour earlier, prancing and anxious to experience the morning at it's chilliest. A sweater, thin jacket and scarf are adequate to keep one warm and stylish. That's all to say, things seem right and fall-like to me. Fall is good. Fall is great.