Father's Day

My Dearest Love,

What would this day be without you? Aside from the most basic role you played in this being a day I have some connection with, I must say that without your presence and organizational skill, it has certainly come down a peg or two as one of the social highlights of the year.

Your daughter went off attending grad parties and then to work. Your son spent the weekend in the presence of your sisters and actually gave me a father's day gift - a copy of Armistad Maupin's "Michael Tolliver Lives," the seventh in the "City" series. That was sweet, but so far, he has avoided completing the task I asked him to do for this day - clean the turtle tank.

I went to the Blind Lizard Rallye as is my tradition. It was a low-key and pleasant experience. I ran into our old friend, John O and his daughter, Emily. There were also some old colleagues from my ex-workplace who went on at length about the decline in the quality of work experience since I left (not necessarily attributable to me, LOL).

Now, the holiday is behind us and things go on at the relaxed summer pace. Relaxed that is for your children who sleep as long as they can, watch as much TV as they can, and attend as many social events as they can. I wish I could be a more effective hard ass, but I seem to have lost what technique I had. You were the master. Perhaps you could visit your children and give them a nightmare or two about the effects of sloth on one's character.

This morning, I awoke at 4 am as I seem to be doing of late. I lay in bed, drifting in and out of various levels of consciousness, but never attaining a restful state of sleep. When I finally got out of bed and started to pad to the kitchen, I noticed something outside the large window by the landing on the stairs.

It was a deer, a doe by the look of her. She was browsing the wild weeds we fondly call our natural back yard. I backtracked to the bedroom and got the camera for a few quick snaps. The resulting pictures will not win any pulitzer prizes for photography. I am becoming increasingly tired of futzing with the digital camera you gave me so many years ago. What was once a marvel of modern technology is now a fat, broken, clunky relic that results in frustration more than pleasure. Perhaps it is time to do something before we go to Europe.

But, I digress. I finally left the doe to browse and took the camera to the kitchen to fix my coffee and recharge the depleted camera battery. As the water was heating, I went out on the screen porch to watch the doe sans camera. It was then I saw she was not alone. There was a spotted fawn as well.

Over the next hour, I watched the two as they went to alert having heard and scented me and the dog once she was let out of her night-time quarters. After a bit, the fawn lay down outside your son's bedroom window while the mother continued to feed. This was the case as I went through two cups of coffee and most of the paper. Finally, I went downstairs to see if your children were up because they had "track camp" to go to and I thought your son would be particularly happy to photograph the fawn just feet outside his window.

Unfortunately for that, your daughter was already up and in the shower, which caused the boiler to come on to make up the hot water supply, which in turn shot the exhaust out the wall vent right over where the fawn was laying. Consequently, when I roused your son, the fawn was gone, as was the mother.

Still, it was a fun way for me to start the day.

Thinking of you,

d.