Miriam among her families grave sites.
She said that in case she were to die before me, she would like to be buried here.
Near Elgin Oregon.
Gratitude #83 - Sweet Biddies!
11 years ago
Saturday, June 20, 2009
family
Miriam among her families grave sites.
She said that in case she were to die before me, she would like to be buried here.
Near Elgin Oregon.
act of love?
There was a “little” man who lived not far from here.
His beard was gray almost to white, as was his hair. Back when people actually went to the mall, he would be hired each christmas to be the Santa Claus.
He was a wonderful sad eyed Santa.
I think he was from Holland, and he was not that small, when I think about it.
In time his wife died. He cared for her, went to the country cemetery, got permission and dug her grave and buried her. It seems he did the whole thing pretty well by himself. Apparently they did not have family
Some one was sure that was against the law, but it wasn’t. Some one else was sure there was some foul play, but there was not a hint of that. In fact, it seems to me that he did the most loving thing he could do for the woman he loved.
I have never dug a grave but I have dug some pretty good size holes. He was a hunk older than I am, but digging a hole that size would be a challenge for a younger man, but he did it.
Later he died.
For some reason this old man and his act of love came to my memory. It is worth retelling, I think.
His beard was gray almost to white, as was his hair. Back when people actually went to the mall, he would be hired each christmas to be the Santa Claus.
He was a wonderful sad eyed Santa.
I think he was from Holland, and he was not that small, when I think about it.
In time his wife died. He cared for her, went to the country cemetery, got permission and dug her grave and buried her. It seems he did the whole thing pretty well by himself. Apparently they did not have family
Some one was sure that was against the law, but it wasn’t. Some one else was sure there was some foul play, but there was not a hint of that. In fact, it seems to me that he did the most loving thing he could do for the woman he loved.
I have never dug a grave but I have dug some pretty good size holes. He was a hunk older than I am, but digging a hole that size would be a challenge for a younger man, but he did it.
Later he died.
For some reason this old man and his act of love came to my memory. It is worth retelling, I think.
Friday, June 19, 2009
cool
We have had a lot of rain this spring.
Those who keep track of such things say that it is not a record, but has been wetter than other years lately.
But when they tally it all up it is 1.6 inches. Shucks I have been places where they get that much dew! But, this is desert and we get about 10 inches a year. Today i read that rainy Seattle averages 1.5 inches in June. Hmm.
This week was in the low 80’s all week, but Sunday is to be 64 for a high.
I was thinking about going tent camping, but maybe not. Lots of people camp at much lower temperatures, but it takes the right gear and the right frame of mind to tent camp at such temperatures. Maybe later!
So tomorrow we will go up on the South Fork of the Payette river. An old friend lives up there and I invited myself to visit. “Dave, when do you need an invitation?”
I know that but I asked any way.
Those who keep track of such things say that it is not a record, but has been wetter than other years lately.
But when they tally it all up it is 1.6 inches. Shucks I have been places where they get that much dew! But, this is desert and we get about 10 inches a year. Today i read that rainy Seattle averages 1.5 inches in June. Hmm.
This week was in the low 80’s all week, but Sunday is to be 64 for a high.
I was thinking about going tent camping, but maybe not. Lots of people camp at much lower temperatures, but it takes the right gear and the right frame of mind to tent camp at such temperatures. Maybe later!
So tomorrow we will go up on the South Fork of the Payette river. An old friend lives up there and I invited myself to visit. “Dave, when do you need an invitation?”
I know that but I asked any way.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
shoes
I like good shoes.
Not necessarily expensive, but it seems that cheap shoes are a bad bargain, and my feet are a lot happier in good shoes.
And I buy my shoes on Ebay, “gently used” as they say.
Today a pair came in the mail. The picture on Ebay made them look not so good, but I bought them for $5 plus $11 to ship, so I figured I could get a bit of wear out of them at the worst.
But, when I opened the package, I was amazed. If there is wear I don’t see it. The seller should have shown better pictures! So I got a pair of $125 shoes for $16 counting postage.
Same happened earlier in the week: new shoes for a very low price. But they were so new they needed to be broken in a while. Brown shoes must not be cool now. But for beating around or working, I sure don’t care.
These are knock about and work shoes. Maybe they are last year’s style, I don’t know. Shucks I am older than that!
I think the secret of buying anything at an auction is knowing what it is you are buying. I only buy one brand that I know and trust: Clarks of England. Through the years I have owned a fair number of this brand and have been delighted in the way they feel and wear. Miriam has a few Clarks too!
So here’s to bargains!
These two will last me a LONG time, so it will be a while before I go shoe shopping again.
Not necessarily expensive, but it seems that cheap shoes are a bad bargain, and my feet are a lot happier in good shoes.
And I buy my shoes on Ebay, “gently used” as they say.
Today a pair came in the mail. The picture on Ebay made them look not so good, but I bought them for $5 plus $11 to ship, so I figured I could get a bit of wear out of them at the worst.
But, when I opened the package, I was amazed. If there is wear I don’t see it. The seller should have shown better pictures! So I got a pair of $125 shoes for $16 counting postage.
Same happened earlier in the week: new shoes for a very low price. But they were so new they needed to be broken in a while. Brown shoes must not be cool now. But for beating around or working, I sure don’t care.
These are knock about and work shoes. Maybe they are last year’s style, I don’t know. Shucks I am older than that!
I think the secret of buying anything at an auction is knowing what it is you are buying. I only buy one brand that I know and trust: Clarks of England. Through the years I have owned a fair number of this brand and have been delighted in the way they feel and wear. Miriam has a few Clarks too!
So here’s to bargains!
These two will last me a LONG time, so it will be a while before I go shoe shopping again.
John
When we were photographers I met John. He wanted to be a Medical Doctor.
He had no money, but had a good head, and he worked hard. He married while in college. His wife was as sweet. They were both wonderfully uncorrupted country kids.
Once in a while when he was in medical school they and their expanding family would travel through out town to see parents and stay overnight. We enjoyed their company.
The years went by.
Rumor was that he and his wife divorced, one of those nasty divorces.
Then he called me one day and asked if I would come up to a small town in central Washington State to photograph his wedding. He was marrying a small town socialite.
The wedding was one of those happy/sad events. His children were there, not sure they should be sad or happy. His sister was there. I visited with her a while. She suggested that my friend had not been a good husband to his first wife. That made me sad.
His new wife was a bubbly intelligent woman. In many ways she outclassed John by miles. He was a simple man who worked hard and got through medical school. His social skills were not as developed as his medical ones.
At the end of the service, I gave him the film (as was my system then) and wished him a good life. I never saw him again.
But he called one night.
“Dave, I want to lay carpet in my new house. I want to do it myself. What tools will I need.”
I told him where to go to buy the tools and gave him a list of things to buy. Those tools cost more than a good carpet installer would have charged, but John wanted to do it himself.
A few days later he called to ask me how to use those tools. So I gave him a one hour course in laying carpet.
I have not heard from him since and that was a LONG time ago. I always wondered about the carpet job as well as to the whereabouts of a set of very nice carpet tools that, most likely, were used just once.
And John, I hope you had lots of happiness.
He had no money, but had a good head, and he worked hard. He married while in college. His wife was as sweet. They were both wonderfully uncorrupted country kids.
Once in a while when he was in medical school they and their expanding family would travel through out town to see parents and stay overnight. We enjoyed their company.
The years went by.
Rumor was that he and his wife divorced, one of those nasty divorces.
Then he called me one day and asked if I would come up to a small town in central Washington State to photograph his wedding. He was marrying a small town socialite.
The wedding was one of those happy/sad events. His children were there, not sure they should be sad or happy. His sister was there. I visited with her a while. She suggested that my friend had not been a good husband to his first wife. That made me sad.
His new wife was a bubbly intelligent woman. In many ways she outclassed John by miles. He was a simple man who worked hard and got through medical school. His social skills were not as developed as his medical ones.
At the end of the service, I gave him the film (as was my system then) and wished him a good life. I never saw him again.
But he called one night.
“Dave, I want to lay carpet in my new house. I want to do it myself. What tools will I need.”
I told him where to go to buy the tools and gave him a list of things to buy. Those tools cost more than a good carpet installer would have charged, but John wanted to do it himself.
A few days later he called to ask me how to use those tools. So I gave him a one hour course in laying carpet.
I have not heard from him since and that was a LONG time ago. I always wondered about the carpet job as well as to the whereabouts of a set of very nice carpet tools that, most likely, were used just once.
And John, I hope you had lots of happiness.
Irving
I often heard it said that he missed his calling.
He was a decent small town doctor, but he loved the english language and was so much the master of it. My parents often said that Irving should have been a College English Professor, and he would have been a good one.
His family moved to our town when I was young, though I do not know the exact time. His wife was a good friend of both my mom and my grandmother.
We had and have a pretty large contingency of Hispanic people, and he delivered a LOT of their babies. I asked him if he spoke Spanish. He grinned and said, “No, but I speak enough Mexican to get by.”
When Miriam was pregnant we were living in Irving’s town so we had him deliver our first born. He was kind and gentle. His fee for the pre-care and delivery was a whopping $75. The hospital was a similar fee.
One night I came home from a long trip. I parked the semi across the street from our little rental house. Miriam was gone and I knew full well where she was. It was time for the baby to appear! But I was bone tired, so I went to bed.
A couple of hours later. Mom came by and woke me up. “You get down to the hospital and be with your wife, son.” I minded mom!
Irving came into the hospital room. It was in the middle of the night and he was obviously tired, but he smiled, cracked a joke and got to business.
I had a job driving truck for my step father and was making $50 a week, but we paid for that delivery out of my income. Wow, how things have changed.
Irving was a tennis player, an amateur campion as I remember. He played well into his 60’s when Parkinson's took away his ability.
The last time I saw Irving, he was packing up to move to be closer to his MD son. One of my daughters was helping them pack. Parkinson's had taken a huge toll on him, but he still had his sense of humor. He told me how he had read a letter from his sister and from his father. Then he grinned and explained that the letters were decades old but he had found them and had enjoy rereading them.
“Dave, you are once a man and twice a boy.”
I never saw him again. But his memory is indelibly etched in my mind. He drove a Packard, his only extravagance. He was a very common man who loved his language and was a decent family Doctor as well.
He was a decent small town doctor, but he loved the english language and was so much the master of it. My parents often said that Irving should have been a College English Professor, and he would have been a good one.
His family moved to our town when I was young, though I do not know the exact time. His wife was a good friend of both my mom and my grandmother.
We had and have a pretty large contingency of Hispanic people, and he delivered a LOT of their babies. I asked him if he spoke Spanish. He grinned and said, “No, but I speak enough Mexican to get by.”
When Miriam was pregnant we were living in Irving’s town so we had him deliver our first born. He was kind and gentle. His fee for the pre-care and delivery was a whopping $75. The hospital was a similar fee.
One night I came home from a long trip. I parked the semi across the street from our little rental house. Miriam was gone and I knew full well where she was. It was time for the baby to appear! But I was bone tired, so I went to bed.
A couple of hours later. Mom came by and woke me up. “You get down to the hospital and be with your wife, son.” I minded mom!
Irving came into the hospital room. It was in the middle of the night and he was obviously tired, but he smiled, cracked a joke and got to business.
I had a job driving truck for my step father and was making $50 a week, but we paid for that delivery out of my income. Wow, how things have changed.
Irving was a tennis player, an amateur campion as I remember. He played well into his 60’s when Parkinson's took away his ability.
The last time I saw Irving, he was packing up to move to be closer to his MD son. One of my daughters was helping them pack. Parkinson's had taken a huge toll on him, but he still had his sense of humor. He told me how he had read a letter from his sister and from his father. Then he grinned and explained that the letters were decades old but he had found them and had enjoy rereading them.
“Dave, you are once a man and twice a boy.”
I never saw him again. But his memory is indelibly etched in my mind. He drove a Packard, his only extravagance. He was a very common man who loved his language and was a decent family Doctor as well.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
go shoot
Dad, how do you photograph food?
Of all my creative daughters this one seems to have no limit. She is a top graphic designer, but she gets asked to do other things regularly.
Her eperience with “profesional” food photographers was not positive, nor was her clients view of the photog in question, so the phone call.
I have done a bit of food photography, but not a lot. The basics are explainable, so I gave her a 4 minute photography class.
It is hard to make hamburgers look “glamorous” without a lot of cheating, and that is how great food photographs are made. Her shoot was good enough for the menus and reader board.
Another time she called about architectural photography. She was working for an architect at the time. He handed her his spendy digital camera and said: “Go shoot.”
This is what she came up with: http://www.tecta.com/NoeValley/pages/NoeValley_p7.html
Either I am a super teacher or she is a super student, because for her first architectural shoot she did pretty amazing work.
I am proud of you Dea.
BTW, look at the rental price. That is a MONTH I think!
Of all my creative daughters this one seems to have no limit. She is a top graphic designer, but she gets asked to do other things regularly.
Her eperience with “profesional” food photographers was not positive, nor was her clients view of the photog in question, so the phone call.
I have done a bit of food photography, but not a lot. The basics are explainable, so I gave her a 4 minute photography class.
It is hard to make hamburgers look “glamorous” without a lot of cheating, and that is how great food photographs are made. Her shoot was good enough for the menus and reader board.
Another time she called about architectural photography. She was working for an architect at the time. He handed her his spendy digital camera and said: “Go shoot.”
This is what she came up with: http://www.tecta.com/NoeValley/pages/NoeValley_p7.html
Either I am a super teacher or she is a super student, because for her first architectural shoot she did pretty amazing work.
I am proud of you Dea.
BTW, look at the rental price. That is a MONTH I think!
green
For the third year in a row we have a decent crop of apricots.
These will increase in size in the next few weeks while they turn from this camouflage green to that "apricot" color!
They will be eaten and canned. Nothing wasted.
doctor day
Yesterday was my 3 times a year Doctor day. Boring stuff.
My doctor is a young woman not too long out of medical school. Once she said that she had her student loans paid down to $200,000 a year.
In horror I asked how much it had been: “225,000.” What a way to start a career that does not pay as much as we might think -- not in Idaho at least.
But, she listens and pays attention. When I want something special for Miriam or don’t want some test, she listens. I like that.
Yesterday was routine. Weight, down three pounds from 4 months ago. Blood pressure good.
The assistant drew some blood to check on something that had not been checked in a year. We visited. She is a single mom with three near teen age kids. She does not get paid too much and it takes so little to throw her into a spin. She told me that she was having to move back in with her parents for a while.
Her oldest child, a boy, assured her that they would be ok. I assured her that she was a much better mom than she sometimes thinks she is, and she agreed.
Idaho is a low pay state. This lady is tryin to support herself and 3 kids on less than $30,000 a year, and given the high cost of housing, it is really tough.
Idaho has few high paying jobs.
My doctor is a young woman not too long out of medical school. Once she said that she had her student loans paid down to $200,000 a year.
In horror I asked how much it had been: “225,000.” What a way to start a career that does not pay as much as we might think -- not in Idaho at least.
But, she listens and pays attention. When I want something special for Miriam or don’t want some test, she listens. I like that.
Yesterday was routine. Weight, down three pounds from 4 months ago. Blood pressure good.
The assistant drew some blood to check on something that had not been checked in a year. We visited. She is a single mom with three near teen age kids. She does not get paid too much and it takes so little to throw her into a spin. She told me that she was having to move back in with her parents for a while.
Her oldest child, a boy, assured her that they would be ok. I assured her that she was a much better mom than she sometimes thinks she is, and she agreed.
Idaho is a low pay state. This lady is tryin to support herself and 3 kids on less than $30,000 a year, and given the high cost of housing, it is really tough.
Idaho has few high paying jobs.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
in season
Lettuce and strawberries like each other. The lettuce will be next week's lunch!
I was never nutty about cabbage until I grew these Gonzales mini cabbage. Each head will be about 5 inches across and is so tender and mild tasting. Fresh in wedges with dressing; sliced into stews and soups, and steamed with other vegetables.
Yum.
spring/fall
Spring on my tiny homestead.
Now days, thanks to overly cheap energy, we can buy anything we want in the fresh section of the grocery store -- year round.
Strawberries, tomatoes, asparagus, they are all there, at moderate prices, year round. But the off season strawberries are made of wood, the tomatoes only look like tomatoes and I have never actually bought asparagus at $3 a pound in the winter.
Here on the tiny homestead, we eat in season, or what will keep for the next season. This is early for a north garden, but we have had a lot of really good asparagus, our new strawberry plants are producing very fine tasting berries, and we have super salads, and we eat a big green salad just about every day.
Tomatoes are coming, and when they do there will be buckets of them, fresh ripe and so tasty. Soon we will have fresh peas and new potatoes, a combination I remember from childhood.
I think this enjoyment of the season’s bounty is a good lesson for life. Our kids want to be adults and “enjoy” the adult fares before their season. We want year round joy and excitement, but it does not work out well.
This is spring, time for me to stretch those flabby winter muscles and breathe deep. Summer is coming and if the spring work was done well, I will be able sit in the shade when it is hot and enjoy the looks and taste of my work.
Right now I am wallowing in this spring time, enjoying every moment of it. It is the spring of the year, but we are in the fall of our lives now. Each season has it’s rewards and joys.
Spring love is intense and wonderful, but old seasoned love is deep and comfortable.
I would much prefer that Miriam not have this horrible disease, but she does. And disease or not, we are going to live and love to the maximum.
Today I go to see my 30 something lady doctor. She will say that for an old goat I am in remarkably good health, or something like that. She will like my blood pressure. She will inquire about whether I am able to get away and have personal time. She will be concerned but not worried.
I sure would not have asked for any of this, be it old age or Alzheimer’s, but it is here, and my job is to make the best of it. We have lived healthy, careful lives and now is the payday.
Thanks Mom.
Now days, thanks to overly cheap energy, we can buy anything we want in the fresh section of the grocery store -- year round.
Strawberries, tomatoes, asparagus, they are all there, at moderate prices, year round. But the off season strawberries are made of wood, the tomatoes only look like tomatoes and I have never actually bought asparagus at $3 a pound in the winter.
Here on the tiny homestead, we eat in season, or what will keep for the next season. This is early for a north garden, but we have had a lot of really good asparagus, our new strawberry plants are producing very fine tasting berries, and we have super salads, and we eat a big green salad just about every day.
Tomatoes are coming, and when they do there will be buckets of them, fresh ripe and so tasty. Soon we will have fresh peas and new potatoes, a combination I remember from childhood.
I think this enjoyment of the season’s bounty is a good lesson for life. Our kids want to be adults and “enjoy” the adult fares before their season. We want year round joy and excitement, but it does not work out well.
This is spring, time for me to stretch those flabby winter muscles and breathe deep. Summer is coming and if the spring work was done well, I will be able sit in the shade when it is hot and enjoy the looks and taste of my work.
Right now I am wallowing in this spring time, enjoying every moment of it. It is the spring of the year, but we are in the fall of our lives now. Each season has it’s rewards and joys.
Spring love is intense and wonderful, but old seasoned love is deep and comfortable.
I would much prefer that Miriam not have this horrible disease, but she does. And disease or not, we are going to live and love to the maximum.
Today I go to see my 30 something lady doctor. She will say that for an old goat I am in remarkably good health, or something like that. She will like my blood pressure. She will inquire about whether I am able to get away and have personal time. She will be concerned but not worried.
I sure would not have asked for any of this, be it old age or Alzheimer’s, but it is here, and my job is to make the best of it. We have lived healthy, careful lives and now is the payday.
Thanks Mom.
Monday, June 15, 2009
trash
Wonderful old worthless pieces of precision.
I mourn their uselessness.
My cameras are the same models as those shown, but I did not do the photographs of them.
useless
Today I was arranging things in my little studio.
It is time for some serious studio work, and the studio needed some attention.
There were cameras all over the place. Miriam’s Nikon FM2 is in a nice case. I did not even open it up. There are two very find lenses with it. Then I came across my own Nikon FG and a pretty decent long focus lens on it.
Down under the bench is a 4 by 5 Super D Graflex. That one dates back to the 30’s I am sure. It was a superb studio camera. Razor sharp lens, a huge focal plane shutter, and that wonderful thing we used to study: A big ground glass.
A ground glass was what you looked at to see the picture. The camera was an SLR, so you looked right through the lens and you could look through at the same aperture as you were going to photograph, to check the depth.
I ran it with a roll film back mostly. Fine old piece of nostalgia.
Last was a long brown belt case. My Olympus XA. A sweet little pocket camera with a 35mm lens, and a sliding lens cover. It even had a little strobe unit that attached to the camera. Since I never liked strobes any way, I did not use that one much.
The FG has a jammed shutter. Not worth fixing. The others are in working condition.
In the house I have a case full of Leica equipment. Fabulous cameras. Professional all the way, but most likely, like the Nikons and the Olympus, quite unsalable any more.
And there in lies a sad fact. That Graflex is as old as I am. It still works, and if you could buy the film, it would do wonderful work. Old, but useable. I have had two digital cameras. Neither could hold a candle to any of those film cameras, and as soon as I bought them, they were obsolete.
None of this matters in the cosmic sense, but it left me with a profound sense of loss.
It is time for some serious studio work, and the studio needed some attention.
There were cameras all over the place. Miriam’s Nikon FM2 is in a nice case. I did not even open it up. There are two very find lenses with it. Then I came across my own Nikon FG and a pretty decent long focus lens on it.
Down under the bench is a 4 by 5 Super D Graflex. That one dates back to the 30’s I am sure. It was a superb studio camera. Razor sharp lens, a huge focal plane shutter, and that wonderful thing we used to study: A big ground glass.
A ground glass was what you looked at to see the picture. The camera was an SLR, so you looked right through the lens and you could look through at the same aperture as you were going to photograph, to check the depth.
I ran it with a roll film back mostly. Fine old piece of nostalgia.
Last was a long brown belt case. My Olympus XA. A sweet little pocket camera with a 35mm lens, and a sliding lens cover. It even had a little strobe unit that attached to the camera. Since I never liked strobes any way, I did not use that one much.
The FG has a jammed shutter. Not worth fixing. The others are in working condition.
In the house I have a case full of Leica equipment. Fabulous cameras. Professional all the way, but most likely, like the Nikons and the Olympus, quite unsalable any more.
And there in lies a sad fact. That Graflex is as old as I am. It still works, and if you could buy the film, it would do wonderful work. Old, but useable. I have had two digital cameras. Neither could hold a candle to any of those film cameras, and as soon as I bought them, they were obsolete.
None of this matters in the cosmic sense, but it left me with a profound sense of loss.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
perfect?
This is my neighbor's garden. Mine never looks remotely this good.
He does not experiment. Same veggies, planted the same time, and the same very good results.
he simply does not allow weeds
bean beds
My garden is about half experimentation.
This year I finished putting the small crop section into boxes. I have 28 of them in total. They make tending the garden so much easier.
The wider beds here are planted with dry beans. I grew dry beans once and I got a pretty good crop. I want to see how many I can grow in this space.
The narrow beds have green pole beans (Blue Lake) that we will eat green and freeze. In a couple of weeks, I'll dig in the last two boxes and plant the last of the pole beans.
If the dry beans do not work well as a crop, the beans will have been good for the soil.
Wil
I was a 15 year old about to become a high school sophomore. Wilmer was a couple years older.
The private school we attended had a working farm, and we were both assigned to work on the farm. The dairy part of the farm was tiny by today’s standards, with about 20 to 24 milking cows.
Wil’s job was to milk the cows, mine to irrigate. We were paid the princely sum of thirty cents an hour.
Since this was a private school, there was tuition, which was $22 a month for me. If I worked, even at thirty cents an hour during the summer, I could pay off a year’s tuition. It was a good combination.
Wil was taller than I, at 6’ 5”, I was only 6’. He was the center in our school’s basket ball team, and I was as little a jock as could be imagined.
Wil became an engineer, went to California and as far as I know made a fortune. After a divorce he married a gal from East Idaho and moved back to my state.
The first time I saw him after he returned was at our 50th graduation reunion. I asked him how he was. He smiled and laughed and gave me a litany of ills, including that he was on dialysis hours each week, and was waiting for a transplant, unless he died first.
That was 5 years ago.
I saw him again last night. He got the transplant and looks pretty good for an old guy (after all he is still 2 years older than me)! We spoke of many things. His mind and his speech both fast and nimble, mine seemed to be a bit lethargic by comparison.
We keep in touch in a rather awkward way, but it is good to see him and see that he is looking good. His wife is a delightful person. They seem very happy. I am glad for both of them.
Best to you my friend.
The private school we attended had a working farm, and we were both assigned to work on the farm. The dairy part of the farm was tiny by today’s standards, with about 20 to 24 milking cows.
Wil’s job was to milk the cows, mine to irrigate. We were paid the princely sum of thirty cents an hour.
Since this was a private school, there was tuition, which was $22 a month for me. If I worked, even at thirty cents an hour during the summer, I could pay off a year’s tuition. It was a good combination.
Wil was taller than I, at 6’ 5”, I was only 6’. He was the center in our school’s basket ball team, and I was as little a jock as could be imagined.
Wil became an engineer, went to California and as far as I know made a fortune. After a divorce he married a gal from East Idaho and moved back to my state.
The first time I saw him after he returned was at our 50th graduation reunion. I asked him how he was. He smiled and laughed and gave me a litany of ills, including that he was on dialysis hours each week, and was waiting for a transplant, unless he died first.
That was 5 years ago.
I saw him again last night. He got the transplant and looks pretty good for an old guy (after all he is still 2 years older than me)! We spoke of many things. His mind and his speech both fast and nimble, mine seemed to be a bit lethargic by comparison.
We keep in touch in a rather awkward way, but it is good to see him and see that he is looking good. His wife is a delightful person. They seem very happy. I am glad for both of them.
Best to you my friend.
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