Last weekend was, I suspect, the last gasp of summer. Two days of driving to strip malls in my new used car, Walter Mitty; listening to Guided By Voices (remember: "I am a heavy drinker who enjoys The Who. You are fired. Now, a high kick."); heading to the farmer’s market to buy lima beans and eggplant; buying books at the grungy used books store (two for me, one for V., and three as a swap to send to Judith); taking long walks in the warm sun; sitting outside the coffeehouse eating a cookie under a blue, blue sky. Goodbye, summer of 2001. We hardly knew ye.