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It's the time of year when I move into my home office until the next semester starts. It's a tremendous feeling. I pack Patricia out the door with breakfast and lunch; make sure the cats have what they need; put the iPod in the dock; and re-populate my bookcase with books that I've had at the office. I move between the desk, which overlooks my little backyard with the cherry tree and anemic lawn, and the oh so comfortable mission-style recliner that I brought here in 2005 from Dad's house in Alaska. I sit in the chair when I want to read and not to write, and I don't mind dozing off for a few minutes every couple of hours. But the rest of this week, and perhaps the next, I'll be at the desk, grading exams. The cats will take up their positions in the two window-sills in front of me, protecting me from squirrels. I'll take a break at lunch and hang lights on the tree so when the daylight fades I can look out and enjoy the holiday glow.