For most people, January 1st is a time of reflection and resolutions. For me, it’s Labour Day. I set new goals and think back on past months. This year it’s been different. Sold and bought a house in the first two weeks of January, followed by months of packing and moving in the prime of Covid-19 to a town of six thousand people. But even with the constraints of the pandemic, it has been a wonderful summer. I walked miles twice a day, every day investigating my new surroundings. And I became a porch lady. I read, drank coffee, ate watermelon, mangoes and cherries while observing the daily buzz on our street. The cars, the bus, the remote control cars racing by followed by a group of boys-controls in their hands, the skateboarders, the basketball players. Packs of electric teenager girls on bicycles, giggling and yakking and, ‘oh my God, he said that.’ An overweight man on a child’s bike carrying groceries home, the people walking by and the friendliest neighbours-always a wave, a hello, a chat. They introduce their dogs: Justin, Randolph, Lily, Carmen, and Roscoe who is the keeper of the street as long as his leash lets him, then he does the perfect back flip into reality. All on a backdrop of blue sky, sunshine and leaves rustling in the lake breeze. Now it’s September, trees are turning orange and red. The days are getting cooler, the street quieter, my porch days shorter. It’s time to return to my desk, to write, to finish what I started, and set goals.