September

I continue to walk home from IUSB. Today it took less than an hour.

I continue to run on the Riverwalk. For a while it was cold enough that I had to bundle up, but today I was able to wear shorts. The fog was picturesque. The water-treatment plant stank worse than usual.

On the weekends, I continue to play soccer. Like Juan Román Riquelme, I contribute some little effort and much flamboyance. Last Sunday, I wore pink stockings and scored three golazos. Also, for long periods, I tended goal — flamboyantly.

(At first, Meridith refused to drive me in her car, because of my stockings. But then she relented.)

(Also, my parents attended the game and recorded me on video. They were eager to be near to their child. Today they returned to Ecuador.)

On Sunday I spent my church-time in the nursery. Mostly I stood back and allowed the children to play with one another. (I did have to break up one small fight.) But then one child asked me to read to her. We sat down together, and three or four others cuddled up beside us.

(Next time, I may bring my own books. I wonder if these children are old enough for Peter Rabbit.)

And now I’ll stop bragging and disclose that this has been an anxious month for me. In the tutoring office, my stomach is in knots because so many other people are in the room, or could enter into it. Other worries are ruminated in my mind. But my condition is improving (how else would I conclude this post?); these last few days, I’ve enjoyed some peace.