Father's Day Pens

Here we have the understated Mickey Mouse pen in the Sock Purse...















Somewhat like the Pen Sock of years gone by...














And here is the Drum Pen...















And the tasteful Douglas model; "A patient and discerning man."















Thanks to one and all.

Dear Dad

“The Spoken Word” from Temple Square, June 20, 1971. © 1971 by Richard L. Evans

Life moves in cycles, from the innocence and honest trusting of a child, a hand held in ours, a boy walking with us. Time shifts the scenes—sometimes to restlessness, perhaps a little aloofness. The seasons pass—sometimes to stubbornness and self-assurance, and sometimes some pulling away from parents. Then back again, as time mellows and matures—hopefully with humility, and a turning once again with gratitude to those who would have spared us much, if only sooner we had learned to let them. Some years ago Frank Crane wrote some lines on this tender searching subject, from which we select some sentences:

Dear Dad—

I am writing this to you though you have been dead thirty years. I feel I must say some things to you … things I didn’t know when I was a boy in your house. It’s only now, after passing through the long hard school years, only now, when my own hair is gray, that I understand how you felt.

I must have been a trial to you. I believed my own petty wisdom. Most of all I want to confess my worst sin against you. It was the feeling I had that you did not understand. When I look back over it now, I know that you did understand. You understood me better than I understood myself. And how patient you were! How pathetic, it now comes to me, were your efforts to get close to me. What was it held me aloof? I don’t know. But it is tragic that a wall rises between a boy and his father.

I wish that you were here now, across the table from me, just for an hour, so I could tell you how there’s no wall any more. I understand you now, Dad, and how I love you and wish I could go back and be your boy again.

Well, it won’t be long, Dad, till I am over there, and I believe you’ll be the first one to take me by the hand and help me. I know that among the richest, most priceless things on earth, and the thing least understood, is that mighty love and tenderness and craving to help which a father feels toward his boy. For I have a boy of my own. Up there somewhere in the Silence, hear me, Dad, and believe me.

One in TWO million

Mom came home from work yesterday having been honored by the library because she was the TWO MILLIONTH CUSTOMER. WOO-HOO!

She got a coffee mug and a couple of gift certificates and a picture frame and a tote bag...

Read all about it here:
http://www.suburbanchicagonews.com/couriernews/news/2405506,3_1_EL18_02LIBRARY_S1-100618.article

...and here:
http://www.dailyherald.com/story/?id=388630

So, I guess that makes us all famous.

Fancy dancer!

Here are a couple of photos and videos from Clarissa's dance recital. She was simply amazing! She came up with some ideas for her tutu costume and let me have at it. It was fun to figure it out even though we had a couple of false starts before we got to the final product.


With her teacher and classmate. She's the only one who didn't have the benefit of a rail to hold onto, so she's actually being held up by magic.

Here's a little taste of their dance during the dress rehearsal.

And tap-tap-tapping along.

Now live and in color. Enjoy!

Compare these two

and....

I love them both.