Sunday, February 06, 2011

What I didn't do yesterday...

I forgot to call my dad to wish him a Happy Birthday! I'm such a bad daughter.

It's my dad's birthday!

It's not like it was an important birthday or anything...he only turned 65.

My hard drive is out of commission at the moment (nothing serious; I just need to relocate the power bar it used to be plugged into), so I didn't have access to old pictures of my dad. However, I think I may have done one better by locating and pulling out this (plus, of course, now having digitally preserved it*):

February 6, 2011

This is my dad's lasting contribution to my autograph book, signed about 25 years ago in 1986. I got an autograph book in 1986 shortly before heading off to Choir Camp in Berwick, N.S.,** and got my family members to sign it. I may post more of these in the future -- some are pretty funny.

So my dad is now 65. He will be retiring at the end of the summer, and my parents have decided to move to Ottawa. They are looking at buying a condo in the same building as my aunt, right near U of O. This is a bit crazy for me to get my head around. It will be fun having my parents back in the same city as me; however, it will be strange not having my parents in Toronto, which is where I am used to them being. Toronto has been "home" for me for many years, and that is going to change. Robert and Judy will be staying in Toronto (despite mine and Jerome's numerous entreaties to move to Ottawa), and I still have many friends who live in Toronto, but without a bedroom to call my own when I get there, it's just not going to be the same.

* This is also my submission for the Shutterbug Challenge for today.

** My brother's ex-wife also attended that same Choir Camp in 1986. I can't remember how we actually discovered this, but sure enough, there she is in a corner of the group photo we took. She wasn't in my cabin, but it's entirely possible I spoke to her at some point (there was maybe only 100 kids there). Crazy!

1 comment:

Waterlily said...

Beauty is indeed hereditary. Once you pass it down to your offsprings, you're left with none.