What a lovely weekend it was. Well, here in Dublin anyway. Summer finally arrived!! I went to the park yesterday in a t-shirt and jeans and was actually kicking myself for not wearing shorts. I met Gili and Reima in Dun Lougherie yesterday afternoon. Gili is from Lithuania and was in my Italian class. Reima, who's name I'm most certainly misspelling, is her flatmate from home. We met for coffee and then strolled to the park and laid in the sun. Perhaps a little too long because I now have sunburned arms. More succinctly, I have a farmers tan. Not too worried about it though, since I never tan. The pink will fade back to my natural whiter than white. In the mean time, the sun is finally here and I'll be in long sleeves for the next week. Sigh...
I didn't really do anything this weekend. I didn't call my dad, because I am a terrible daughter. And because after my afternoon in the sun, I sat down on the sofa and promptly woke up 3 hours later when Flatmate Suzie walked in. How did I manage to survive 12 years in Texas?? (office is asking that very same thing today) So I'll go call my father today and thank him for not taking Mom to the movies that night and for not leaving me on side of a road during those turbulent teen years. We'll talk for about 5 minutes and then he'll pass me on to mom. I think all dads are like that. "Hi. Hello. You alive? You well? Good, good... well here's your mother" Occasionally I get him in a chatty mood. Like when he got the postcard from the British Museum I sent. It was of the Rosetta stone and he had never seen a picture of it before, so we talked about it for close to 30 minutes. He didn't remember that he was the one that introduced it to me the year the King Tut exhibition was touring the US. National Geographic had featured the show, and when it got to our house (Natl Geographic, not King Tut obviously. It's Wyoming people.) I was absorbed by it. Wanted to see it more than anything in the world. Begged him to take me. (again, Wyoming... never had a chance) I think that was the first thing Dad and I connected on, ancient history. Later, much later, it was power tools and construction, but that's another story. I go and do and see things and am constantly amazed how many times he gets on the phone and tells me that he'd always wanted to go and do and see the same things. Things I'd never associated with him. Like the time I sent him tulip bulbs from Amsterdam. He'd studied them in grade school and had always been curious if they were truly any different from our tulips, which of course were descended from Holland Tulip bulbs. He just never got his hands on any. And then a dozen arrived in the mail. He called and laughed and said "trust you to get me a present that makes me work." I hadn't known, I just thought it would make a nice gift for everyone. (And some day it will, if anyone ever plants them!) So tonight after work, I'll call my dad and wish him a happy father's day from his ungrateful daughter. The one that makes him work. Still. Thanks Dad!
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