I haven’t been very motivated to write recently (as periodically happens), but I have no intention of letting all this founder, so let’s get back to it. The last few weeks have been filled mostly with visitors and family, especially family, as I went back to Indianapolis (where I was born) for my Mother’s 70th (surprise) birthday party. I stayed for about a week and re-connected with everyone, and watched my niece and nephew for a couple of days as a favor to my brother while he and my sister-in-law were out of town. It was really nice to spend some time alone with them, and I rarely get to, living as far away as I do. Since it is the halloween season, I thought it would be great to go to the largest cemetery in Indianapolis and explore the place. My sister Kelly joined in and we had a great time travelling the grounds and imagining the lives and stories of the people buried there. Among the notables was Indiana’s best known poet, one James Whitcomb Riley, whose grave occupies the very highest point in the cemetery. As we sat atop that point looking out over the city (such as it is), Kelly read one of his poems, “Little Orphant Annie“, perfectly chosen for the place and the season. Other than that, what can I say, Indiana isn’t know for it’s great poets.