Michaelmas was a gift from dear friends as a mascot for my upcoming grad school adventure. At graduation from this particular program, I shall have a tiny sock monkey pinned to my gown. Finding out about this ritual caused several of my friends to take to calling this the "sock monkey school." Knowing my friends--heck, BEING my friends--you'll understand why they were rooting for it from then on.
When I pulled this charmingly goateed fellow out of his gift bag, it was love at first sight. And not too many minutes later, he told me his name. Don't laugh; a lot of my things name themselves. They just do, okay?!
Anyway, he said his name was Michaelmas. I thought that was a bit odd, but who am I to protest?
Today I looked up the term. I knew it was the feast of St. Michael and a colloquial name for a flower. But do you know what else it is? It's the fall term of a year of college. Yup. My monkey named himself for the adventure he represents...which I'll be undertaking in just two or three weeks.
This is why I let things name themselves.
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