So, last week I’m on my back deck, beating a rug into submission with a broom. It’s another splendid fall afternoon, but I hardly notice. I’m too busy thinking of all the articles I have to edit and all the bills in the mail pile and all the homework Amelia will soon be dragging through the door – and her big science project that’s due next week, and the dance shoes she needs, and when’s her next play practice, again? – and I’m wondering if I remembered to sign that paperwork and return those emails, and I’m beating that dusty rug to a pristine pulp… when all of a sudden, a magnificent orange butterfly comes gliding my way.

Fall came early this year. By the time you read this, it may have retreated again – who knows around here? – but the fact remains that we enjoyed a cool, autumnal blast the weekend of September 16^th, and I, for one, was caught completely off guard.

The last couple of weeks have been rough. Intensely emotional. A handful of unexpected deaths shocked our community, bringing us together in grief and mourning. Some of us have friends – or friends of friends – in Texas who lost their homes to fire. The nation issued a collective groan at the latest jobs report, then turned our hearts and minds to the devastating events of 9/11.

And Lowcountry Weekly published two typos.