At the end of the most miserable day of her life, Asia left this note on her brother’s bed. A year later, though she has outgrown her misspellings and backwards letters, her relentless spirit of hope and joy remain.
Alas, we all grow. Know what I’ve outgrown? Of course you don’t! It’s like we never talk. We’re practically strangers now! Anyways, as I was saying…I’ve outgrown watching my kids play sporting events. You’ve seen those annoying parents screaming and shouting from the sidelines, right? Well it turns out that that mutant gene is in my DNA. So rather than subject other parents to my “coaching”, I’ve taken to wandering around the neighborhood of whatever venue the boy/girl happen to be playing. The urban settings fill me with the glorious tension of uncertainty. The suburbs offer a different bag surprises. In Pittsburgh, you’re never far from wilderness. This was one block from Zach’s soccer game in an unassuming suburb:
So there’s that.
Yes, I am still working on Asia’s new room in the attic. Thanks for asking! Just as Portland hipsters cannot resist painting a bird on things and calling it art, I cannot resist building unnecessary bookcases to cover every HVAC duct. Drywall goes up next week…