When I was a kid, the month of August was like my favorite uncle arriving late to the family party, shaggy-haired and grinning madly, asking us kids if we wanted to jump recklessly in the back of his pickup for a wild ride around our sleepy neighborhood. Nowadays, it seems, Uncle August shows up unexpectedly around 3:45, and my heart leaps because I'm delighted to see him, but I have this 4:00 dentist appointment and I can't sit and visit with him. Good old Uncle August. He's alright, though. I may not be able to stay a spell anymore, but he's got another party to get to.