We went to Virginia in the spring to visit my mom and step-dad. I wish my parents got to spend more time with the kids, but things are as they are.

I found out over the summer that the Robles del Rio Lodge had burned down. In fact, it happened three years ago, and I had no idea until I went out of the way to visit the neighborhood. I'd never been inside before, and it seemed odd that I wouldn't get the chance now.

Would the news have hit me differently if I'd lived there when it happened? I wonder.

I can't recall ever seeing Jason do this when he slept in a crib. Eva seems to do it fairly frequently.

Over the summer we went back home and visited Juliette's parents. I took the opportunity to go back to my old town and work on my "It Forgets You" series some more. I used to come to this swimming hole a lot when I was young--it's right down the street from where one of my friends lived. I hadn't been back in years. I stopped hanging out with that friend, and then I moved away. The fence around the outside has a bunch of signs I don't remember and there's a new bench. The river is the same, though--here, at least. After all the floods and dredging and new channels, this might be the only part of the river I still recognize.

Every night before I go to sleep, I look in on the kids. I never quite know what I'll find when I do. Sometimes Juliette and I wonder to each other how much longer he's going to keep sleeping like this, all sprawled and askew. I suppose the fact that it won't last is why I take the pictures.

I always want to take more pictures of Juliette. She is, after all, the most important person in my life. I worry, though, that she will not like the way the pictures look. Sometimes I don't take the picture because of that, but maybe I should instead take it as an opportunity to take better pictures. She liked this one. So do I.

It's been more than half a year since I last posted a photo, and I'm not sure this will ever be a daily feature again. But, for now, here are some photos from our trip to a pumpkin patch last night.

When I'm stopped at a red light I always find it fascinating to look at what other drivers are doing, especially if I can't see their whole faces. I don't know, maybe that's kind of creepy, but I'm always curious to guess what the person looks like from their hands or elbows or ears, to know what it is they're thinking about or where they're going. There are so many stories happening all around, all the time--in my worst moments it almost feels like I'm drowning in them, but in my best it's inspiring.

I've been playing a bit with formal composition lately, and with making things a bit less pretty.

I don't really know where I'm going with this yet, or if it even has enough legs to go anywhere. I have a feeling it will all end in tears, but in the words of Jack Burton: "You never know 'till you try."