I got caught in a thunderstorm today. A loud one. It takes me about 30 minutes door to door to walk home from my office, and the wind was blowing and a few drops falling just as I left my building. By the 10 minute mark, the thunder crashed and the rain came down hard, diagonally. By the 12 minute mark it was lighter. Hard again at 15. Over by 25.
When I walked in the door, my dad said, "You don't look all that wet." That's because the wind blow-dried me dry in those last 5 minutes. And plus, it really only rained for 10 minutes all told. Not enough to cancel the sprinkler cycle.
My dad has been staying at my house. Tim is away for the week, so Dad has been helping out. My dad and I do not see things the same politically or socially or ... we can probably just stop with not seeing things the same way. He wanted to have a "heart to heart" talk Monday night, meaning he wanted to ask a lot of personal questions and then give me a nice lecture about how he sees the world and how it must, therefore, run that way.
I tried to be calm and polite, but I think the lecture bothered me more than I thought it was bothering me because I woke up at 3am later that night and couldn't sleep. My dad has some truth in his head, but I don't think it's quite taking him in the right direction. And I don't think he cares to see that.
In similar news, I was interviewed about my research for an article for a college newsletter. The interviewer had no background at all in my field, or in any field of my college, in fact, so I tried to give her a basic picture of the very broad types of problems I look at, and relate these problems to things she might understand. I got a copy of the article today, and it's kind of on the right track, but she was missing a lot of key details.
That's the connection to my dad. On the right track, but missing some key details.
One word that he used in our conversation: "abomination".
When was the last time you had a conversation in which the word "abomination" was used? You've gotta meet my dad.
Anyhow, I have now written something.
The last time I wrote, it was still spring, but now it is summer. I love the summer. I love the way my toes are never cold. I love that I can open the windows a bit at night and breathe fresh air while I sleep. I love that the garden explodes into green pandemonium. And then I have to weed. I love having to weed.
And I love the summer thunderstorms, and getting caught in a thunderstorm (without getting struck by lightning). Which brings us back to where we began, and so here we shall end.
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5 comments:
You love to weed? Come to my house :)
I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you--long time, no posts. Sorry about the Dad conversation. At some point I realized that my children were going to do just what they wanted and I could either get out of the way, or make them angry with me. That's not to say I agree with them all the time (I don't) but Dave would sit on me if I tried to have a heart to heart. So I don't. Glad you survived it. Carry on.
Loved this post and can relate on many levels. Gotta love those abominable dads, right?
While you are out there weeding - perhaps you'd like to add a few stepping stones? When we trade back our car with Emily - we'll visit you with some really nice additions to the garden!
love this - and definitely can relate to not seeing eye to eye with one's father.
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