Go Daddy.

It's my Daddy's birthday.
He says he's 70 years old.
Which I guess, though seems implausible, is probably true. It makes sense that he's older than me, and I keep forgetting I'm 42. So, he's not 50. In fact, he could be 70. But, it is "the New 70". His generation is really showing us the possiblities. Helen Mirren( most gorgeous and talented) is 65, Hiroshi Hoketsu is also 70- and still riding at Olympic level dressage on the Japanese Equestrian Team. Polly, from my church, I don't know how old Polly is.. but I think she's older than Dad, and still rocks a high heel on Sundays. Today is also Bob Dylan's 70th birthday. But I don't think he's the best example of growing old gracefully. He's kinda scary. So, forget that one. My friend Trish's Dad is in his 80's? Runs miles every day- actually I think in the evening which makes Trish crazy that he's going to be hit by a car. But, maybe I shouldn't use anyone in Trish's family as an example. The Armstrong- Websters are in a class by themselves when it comes to "can-do" attitude.
My point is, well, 70 is just 70 now. It means you start being measured in long-terms. Lifetime Achievement type stuff. And yet, because many are retiring from their former jobs at this age, they start new careers, develop talents and try all sorts of new things.
We grew up in Connecticut. We had a little acreage, horses, mean-as-heck geese, the best little river to play in, pretty gardens and a wonderful little house that became bigger with thoughtful, use-filled additions, designed by Dad. Dad worked about 30 minutes away, leaving before the morning rush of children and buses. He came home in the evening, often changing clothes to do some work outdoors- splitting wood, stacking wood, moving wood - we used a lot of wood. In winter he would get on his little Bolens lawn tractor with the little plow blade and spend hours plowing the driveway so he could go to work on time.

 We had a sit down dinner for the family. In the years before we quite figured out Blossom's (large black dog) pancreas shortfall, and for some time afterwards, a turtle neck was recommended dinner attire. Tuck your nose into that handy bit of fabric and breathing was easier.
After dinner, he would often head to his study to work at the big wood desk with the burgundy leather blotter. His desk was always organized. I didn't get that gene.
If you needed his help, or wanted a word, you could go in and sit down and wait a bit, and he would finish what he was doing, put his pen into his inkstand and smile. "What's up?" If the current issue was a problem with math homework, you had to be careful about asking for help. Help was always given. But for Dad, Math Help was serious business. This meant adjourning to the dining room table, a clean pad of white paper, several pencils and the pencil sharpener that suctioned onto the table. For a sharp pencil was the only kind worthy of Math Help. Never could you get away with getting help on just one problem, or one small area of confusion. Math Help was extensive.
But, I became good at math.

My Dad, Mom and me- age 16, which means Dad was about the age I am now.  We were at hermit crab races in Sanibel Island, Florida.

It was an excellent childhood. But what I didn't know at the time, was that Dad would've preferred to be on the shore. Sailing. So, when my parents decided where to move a few years ago, they chose the eastern shore of Maryland. Lots of sailing there. And, Dad sails. He races on Wednesday and Sundays on a boat that is big, and sometimes wins. He has a little sailboat of his own, and my parents have provided many summers of sailing lessons for the grandkids. Youngest is having a intensive 2 week course at their Yacht Club this summer. Designed  to allow kids to leave after 2 weeks, ready to sail away.....
Of course, they did not choose to live in a condo. Instead, my parents are awesome gardeners. My Mom has long been an excellent gardener and knowledgeable botanist. But, in the last 10 years, Dad has turned his design skills to the garden as well as weeding, trimming, mowing skills. Their home is beautiful, but they have managed to make the home live to the outdoors. And what an outdoors!
More recently, he has picked up a super-hero alter ego. Sheep Mon comes to the rescue in all areas that need rescue and involve the flock of Border Leicesters they have on their farm. Sheep Mon is fearless, and strong and extremely encouraging to the shepherdess.
Oh, they have fun.
And I when I phone, they are usually entertaining a house guest- or 8. Their house is like a magnet. For one, they know an enormous amount of people. And once a friend, always a friend.
So, from where I stand, 70 looks darn good.
Go Daddy.

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