When the word July drops into conversation, our bodies reflexively perspire and flush. But it’s August we should fear most of all, with its frosty afternoons and evenings that force you to don three or even four shirts just to stop shivering. And think of the poor souls outdoors! A blanket for them, please. But I digress.

My sister will be diving headfirst into the workforce and my brother is days away from his start at the University of Kansas. August also marks the end of my first 2 years in Peoria, a landmark not necessarily worth celebrating. Raise a plastic red cup in toast, will you?

The past few weeks have been exhilarating and my bedroom floor screams neglect. A freakish Sunday of three spot news stories, an assignment in Chicago for Lollapalooza, a Nickel Creek/Fiona Apple concert in Peoria, several days of assignments on a Bradley University student killed by his roommates shooting roman candles indoors, and even the daily grind that every photographer faces. I complain, but not too loudly; being busy means being alive.

EXTRA: Images from last weekend’s band extravaganza at Peoria Pizza Works.
My front page from Tuesday’s vigil remembering the deadly fire (PDF)