I’m wearing a green shirt because autumn is slinking in. Jeans have replaced shorts. I’ve added a sweatshirt as an outer garment but other than that, little has changed. I’m still drinking my quad shot non-fat, no-whip mocha. No pumpkin spice lattes for me, thanks. Lattes always remind me of a “what’s the use?” A WTU is non-fat, no-whip and decaf, without much coffee in it. Tastes like steamed milk to me. Really, WTF, WTU? Yes, I know, drinks are personal matters for humans, and how a person drinks their coffee is between them and their barista. I know many are appalled by my QSM, or abhorred that, ye gods, I have coffee and chocolate mixed together. My preference is a twelve ounce cup of this, so there’s little milk in it. It’s mostly chocolate flavored espresso.

Some people read that and shuddered. I felt it all the way over here.

Yes, autumn arrived a few weeks ago in the world’s northern half, in theory. Although leaves began changing while summer was indulging us with heat and sunshine, green is now saying, “Let’s make like a bird and get the flock out of here.” So I’m wearing green, as a small compensation for nature’s attitude.

October, while not my favorite month, is an important month for me. I can’t say I have a favorite month. I’m too hunkered down to properly celebrate holidays and seasons. I’m working on it but the celebratory gene seems to have skipped me.

October gained its status for me because of choices. I went on military active duty in October, left in October, returned in October, received several promotions in October and put in my military retirement papers in October. Two out of two houses were purchased in October. First airplane flight was in October, etc.

I feel something about October. Regardless of what else transpires globally, October re-invigorates my personal mojo. October may not be my favorite, but I love October.

Here we are, then, in October again. This is it. Time to plunge back onto the CSC Narwhal and the battle between the Narwhal, Intrepid and Missouri. It’s an exciting, intense place for me to be as the writer. The characters, scenes and development haunted and shadowed all other activities yesterday, impatiently tearing at the borders maintained between the writing life and ‘the rest’. I’d take a bite of food, nod at another’s comment, and realize a sentence to add or a detail to include. Those of you who write will understand.

Time to drink coffee and write like crazy, at least one more time.