Summer's here!

At last.  We made it and are making the most out of the short time.  I hate to say short; in a few weeks we'll be lured into the trap that it's always like this - shorts and sandals, windows and doors wide open, playing in the garden, outdoor hiking, swimming in the lake, daylight stretching into the night hours - you get the point.

So, what do we do when summer comes?  We get in the car and drive away from here.  Last week, we celebrated Father's Day in Washington, with a new member of the club, Joe.  Thomas is growing up so fast, he's a different person every time we see him.  This time, I sharpened my left tackle skills, blocking his crawling path to parts unknown (dining room, stairs) and we took him on a couple of wonderful walks where he proceeded to pretend to show us the sites - he had just learned how to point his finger.  While there, we joined Leonor and Margaret at a downtown pub for a World Cup game, Spain vs. Portugal, which the paper said the next day was a game for the ages.   Can you guess who Leonor was rooting for?  Yup, that's right, but she was magnanimous enough to invite a friend from Spain to join the fun.  Fortunately, it was a tie and everyone left happy.  If you haven't seen it yet, watch Ronaldo's third goal on YouTube.   

The next morning we put on our painting clothes and went over to Andrew and Margaret's to paint their new back fence, and put together a picnic table.  They have done a great job and will be able to spend much time out there. We had a wonderful meal that Joe put together; first time I've ever had brisket, I think.  On the way home, we talked with Annie who has been putting in many miles on long hikes in the Bay Area.  I went for one the other day that was just 7 miles, but Annie easily doubles that and has come close to tripling that, I believe.

On the travel schedule, Joe took a week off and headed to Spain for a friend's wedding; Leonor's mother came to get some quality Thomas time; Jeff and Melodie are out in Chicago (I think, from Facebook, for a wedding); John and Marilyn flew up to Albany for their granddaughter Natalie's high school graduation, and Peter and Janet are getting ready to take off for an extended vacation/tour of France.  Bon voyage.  We know a great place to get chocolate croissants: pretty much everywhere.  

Andrew and Lur are right now up in Green Lake for their annual retreat, that coincides with a Ripon reunion every year.  Clair is nearby at summer camp, but Daniel had to remain in Chicago to finish up his year of school/apprenticeship.

We send congratulations to Peter for winning his big case, and to David and Paula for their wedding anniversary.  From Tina's photos on Facebook, we see their big day approaching.  

After an exhausting month of May getting the garden ready, we are nor reaping some of the early fruits of that labor, literally.  At first, we were able to beat the chipmunks and rabbits to the really red strawberries, but they have since become smarter and faster.  I think they like the white berries, before they ripen.  Strawberries means picking rhubarb for Mary's great pie.  We haven't had to buy asparagus or lettuce.  The other stuff will take longer into the season, but looking forward to tomatoes, beans, squash, cukes, and beets.  I think I mentioned that last time, and will likely raise it again later in the month.

Other than that, we're enjoying the many cultural offerings around, including our first evening at Tanglewood this summer to watch a radio show.  Yes, Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me was performed live here, and while the radio show only lasts one hour, their live version takes a couple of hours, before it's edited down.  Very funny, and what a great spot.  We also went to a bird lecture at the top of Mt. Greylock, and were lost after about ten slides.  I gave mill talk in Dalton to an SRO crowd of 15 or so.  Still fun.

Anyway, Poconos is less than a month away, and we're looking forward to seeing you all   But there's lots more between then and now.

Enjoy the summer. Love from up here.    

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Reunions!

My 45th Reunion has come and gone and left many, many sweet memories. Princeton Reunions are like none other in the world and go on for four days, although most people only attend the Saturday festivities. I was part of the planning for our class's Reunions this year and came to appreciate how much planning and work is involved. One roommate and friend, Hugh Thompson and his wife Judy, came to their very first, which was very special. I also got to see other old friends and quite a few I did not know as a student, including that digital age phenomenon, those I only knew from social media and met in person for the first time. Lots of fun conversations: who did what as undergrads, who has done what since then. I especially love hearing about things I had forgotten. There were a few sad stories, too.

My additional treat is to see and hear from former students, several this year. On Sunday at the farewell brunch, I had a funny meal with a classmate whom I did not know as students, and whose son had been in a precept with me. The son was there, too. A bit awkward at first, because the son had been lazy in class and I wrote him a somewhat caustic note at the end of the semester. But it was years ago and I obviously didn't bring it up and we all had a pleasant time.

In what is apparently a first, the P-Rade, in which all attendees march in order through the campus in front of the other classes, all dressed in their orange and black garb, and many spectators, and which normally takes two hours, was canceled one hour in as thunderstorms rolled in and lightening threatened. A little rain, but nothing to get worked up about. Lovely fireworks on Saturday evening after a concert from the University Orchestra. Our Saturday night music was a group called the Blushing Brides, who have been doing Rolling Stones covers for forty years and whose lead singer does uncanny Mick Jagger moves and dances (and voice, too). At the Friday dinner, I became a class Vice-President, something I would not have predicted in several million years. As we have usually done, Janet and I danced the night away on Friday and Saturday nights.

In the very small world department, the student crew for our class's Reunions was headed up by two football players, one of whom was Tom Johnson, an All-Ivy linebacker last fall. I happened to mention to him that Erin was a sideline doctor for last fall's home games, and he said that she had stitched up his leg at halftime in one game after a cleat gash. She confirmed it.

It goes without saying that these friendships old and new gather new meaning and depth of emotion as the years go by. And they get better, too. One of my favorite parts of the year.