If a dad can’t be proud…

If a dad can’t be proud of his kids, he ought to move out of the way.

(Note: I’ve rattled on – and on – about the Bridger Wilderness. I’m looking for another soul (or two, or three) who wants to hike the incredible backcountry. I’ve got a spare Gregory backpack, Mountain Hardwear tent, sleeping bag, Los Rios Anglers fly rod, plus other assorted gear. It is available for the asking. July 11-19.)


April 14, 2014

Ellen/Reid: Reid, that was so nice of Liz to send me a copy of Abundance. I’m about 75 pages into it and it’s really good. Amazing, actually. I’m not sure what prompted her for that act of generosity, but it was really sweet. Perhaps she perceives that I need to read something other than the newspaper. Tell her I’ll buy her (and you) a bottle of wine when we get together next month.

The tree canopy behind the house is about to burst into full leaf mode. That means my view of the apartments behind me, and their view of me, will be completely blocked off. I like that little nature sanctuary and the protection from other sets of human eyes. It lets me be in my man cave and free to sit and watch the birds and animals come and go. My friend Dave was reminding me that hummingbirds have returned to the area and that it’s time to put up my hummingbird feeder. That’s on my to-do list for this week. I’ve been watching the birds go through some type of courtship/pre-mating ritual. Male cardinals have passed seeds from my feeder to their mates and male redheaded woodpeckers have done the same with theirs. Also on the to-do list are new flowers for the front planters (the pansies have wilted beyond repair) and some herbs. My lettuce has yet to pop up.

Ellen lives for her children in a school in one of the poorer neighborhoods of St. Paul. She represents how teaching ought to be.

Ellen lives for her children in a school in one of the poorer neighborhoods of St. Paul. She represents how teaching ought to be; not constrained by endless tests and paperwork, but by inspiration and adoration for students.

Ellen, the photo of you and your math class doing their work outside is just too precious. You are a fabulous teacher and you’ll be someone they recall, years from now, and say “I was inspired by Mrs. Pommer.” This is true; that’s what they’ll say. I remember teachers like Mr. Darrow, a high school biology teacher, and their inspiration, very clearly. I don’t think schools need more of teachers like you, they need more parents and politicians to recognize teachers like you. You’re precisely the type what drives public education to what it ought to be. Forget all this GOP mumbo-jumbo about vouchers and endless, mind-numbing tests. You’re the ones who make it sing.

For some reason, and don’t ask why, I seem to have become a non-beef eater. I cannot recall the last time I’ve prepared red meat (okay, I bought a cheeseburger after my golf outing this past weekend) and don’t seem to have any angst about missing it. Chicken and fish, yes. Not ready to become a vegan but things are inching that way. There’s no event or calendar date when this all came to pass, it just has. The formerly evil, vindictive scale continues to work in my favor, albeit not as quickly as one might like, but the numbers are improving.

The big news is an unsolicited inquiry to possibly buy my condo. A Realtor knocked on the door this weekend and said she had a buyer who specifically called out my greenbelt-backed location. Of course, no offer has been made and they might be trying to low ball me. But I didn’t say ‘no’ so we’ll see where things go from here. I’ve been instant messaging with Betsy today and she thinks a smaller, single story unit would be a good thing, and I don’t disagree. Maybe it’s time to get out of the pricier neighborhood and into something else on the cheaper outlying areas of town, or perhaps up to the Midwest. Those are all options. I was thinking of jetting down to Des Moines and back on the Friday of our get together in St. Paul to do a fly-by on the real estate market. All part of this life transition, don’t you think? I’ve got no complicators of a relationship or anything like that so it could happen. I’m up for a new adventure, especially if the sale/purchase would be a wash money-wise.

Well, gotta run – not literally with these sorry ankles – but you get the drift. Can’t want to see you both and Liz and Tim and your mom and of course, the star of the show: little miss Emma.

Love, Dad

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Filed under Writing to adult children

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