I became a grandpa, of sorts, this week. My 18-year-old daughter brought a baby home from school on Monday. Don’t worry, it wasn’t alive. Or hers. Or even real. Sorry, I probably should have led with that last part. This grandparenting thing is a lot harder than I thought. Let me start over. My 18-year-old… Continue reading Handle with Care
My parents are in the process of decluttering their lives and have been busily sifting through the roomfuls of stuff they’ve accumulated through the years. For the past few weeks, then, my dad has been calling and asking about various items before moving them into the appropriate keep/trash/donate piles. Our conversations have typically gone like… Continue reading Flash from the Past
There are worse things in life than having a broken toe. Trek, for example. For those who don't already know, Trek is a church-sanctioned youth activity that requires teenagers to dress up like pioneers and pull wooden handcarts 30 miles across rugged terrain during the heat of summer. The point is to give them a… Continue reading The Cost of Freedom
My 17-year-old daughter is nearly halfway around the world from me right now in Battambang, Cambodia. She’s there for the next couple weeks helping build schools for impoverished nearby villages. She’s also exploring ancient temples, visiting the open markets, and immersing herself in the local culture. To help pass the time while she’s gone, I… Continue reading Justly Concerned
My wife and I just dropped our 17-year-old daughter off at the airport so she can spend the next 2½ weeks volunteering with a humanitarian organization that’s building schools and teaching English in Cambodia. Interesting Fact #1: Cambodia is not a suburb of Seattle. It’s not even in Washington or the Pacific Northwest or the… Continue reading She’s Off for Good
I’m going to help teach a high school computer science class this year! It took me a long time to write that first sentence. More specifically, it took me a long time to finish that first sentence. I struggled to decide if I should end it with an exclamation point to show how excited I… Continue reading Wish Me Luck
The neighborhood kids have recently rallied together to teach one of their own how to ride a bike. The instructors, all professional cyclists, range in age from six to ten. The student, a girl, is probably five. It's unclear if she asked for their help. Or even wants to ride the bike. Regardless, they've been… Continue reading Like Riding a Bike
