Dear Dad,

The beginning of these letters is always so awkward for me. When I'm writing to people who are alive, I really hate to start letters by just jumping into the specifics of my life. I'd much rather start by pretending I am concerned about what's going on in their lives. I really am usually concerned, but it's ironic that the one person I'm most concerned about can't respond to me. So, fuck it. On to me.

Tomorrow at 2pm we will bury your ashes among the first big group of trees you planted by the house. Closer to when you died, when things started gradually getting better and I realized I would be able to someday move on with my life, June seemed so far away and I was all, shit, burying him won't be THAT hard. After all, we have certainly come to terms with your death. We know you're gone. We know you're not coming back. It hasn't been easy but it's getting better, little by little. However, I think there are going to be some wounds seriously ripped open tomorrow. I know there are. We are going to bring some of your favorite beers along though, and beer heals all wounds, right? At least temporarily. Just not for violent drunks. Or those drinking with violent drunks.

John, Martine, Romain, and Red are all on their way to Duluth right now. I'm excited to see them, despite the shitty, shitty circumstances. I keep thinking that this weekend would be so perfect if you were here. You're the only thing missing. For God's sake, the weather might even cooperate. Can't God make an exception just this one time and let us have you back for a day or two? If he did, I swear I'd willingly go back with you when the time came.

Every single day, things happen that I want to tell you about. I wish I was better about writing these letters to let you know just what those things are, or at least so I never forget how important a part of my life you were, and how I could tell you damn near anything, even those things you didn't necessarily want to hear. I'm way too lazy though. Lazy and addicted to reality tv. Also, crying is exhausting. So is reapplying my mascara.

Last weekend, I took Maisy up to Tower for a night. She's all fixed up now, which has improved my mood significantly and I love that I can take her places with me now without worrying about her eye gunk, pain pills, lampshade collar, stitches, etc. She no longer cries and paces in the backseat. She's learned to embrace riding in the car, especially if we're going to the vet...goofball.

Anyway, it was a really nice weekend in Tower. Taylor spent all day Saturday with us and she is absolutely hilarious. I saw her Memorial Day weekend and, just in the two weeks since then, she has become a complete chatterbox. She's absolutely hilarious. She even played hide and seek with me for the first time, though she needs some work. We hid behind Red's bed, waiting for Mike to come find us and I thought Taylor was totally going to pull it off. She ducked her head down and kept quiet for a while. When she heard Mike coming, she peeked over the edge of the bed and watched for him. As soon as he walked into the room, she jumped up excitedly and started screaming. Guess what. He found us.

You know what sucked about last weekend? Church. I'm sorry. I know Jesus is your homeboy and he's my homeboy too, but there's something about church that has been so hard for me since you left us. Being in Tower makes it ten times worse. In fact, I think this was the first time I've been to Sunday morning mass in Tower (holidays excepted) since your death. It was awful seeing somebody else sitting on the right side of the second pew from the back, somebody who didn't ask me to go out for coffee or breakfast at Good Ol' Days afterwards.

The FedEx guy just stopped by about fifteen minutes ago to drop off a dvd copy of your fifteen minutes of fame, as seen on NBC Nightly News. I paid $150 for it, and I don't care that you know it. As I see it, they may have just raped me, but I'm taking a souvenir away from it. And it's not one of those souvenirs I have to buy diapers for. Hello, metaphorical rape! Yes, I have been drinking a little and, no, I have no idea where the hell I was going with that. Your appearances are even shorter than I remember but it's still SO. FUCKING. WORTH. IT. Your grandchildren are going to resent that dvd when they just want to watch Dora and her magic talking map and Mommy won't stop watching the snowplow driver and crying. Such is life. I like to think that if I was on the nightly news and I died, you would pay $150 for a copy of it...and $10 for the overnight shipping too.

Red and I went to Seattle a couple weeks ago. The weather was gorgeous the whole time we were there. What a beautiful city. I don't know what it looked like in 1962 when you went for the world's fair (Nic's mom was there too! Did you see her?) but, as far as big cities go, it's definitely your type. I was shocked by how green it was, and I don't mean green in the hippie-Al Gore-don't-bag-your-groceries-don't-drive-your-car kind of way. Well, they do encourage you to not drive your car, but that's only because traffic is so awful. When I say it's green, I mean there are trees everywhere. We got in at about 2am so didn't really see any of Seattle at first but when I peeked out our 16th floor window at about 10 the next morning, I was very impressed.

It was a great trip. I love being a tourist, I love shopping, and I love seafood. Seattle had the best of all three. If you were still around, I think this would have been the one we'd talked you into. I got the impression that you regretted not going to San Francisco with us, and I think we regretted not pushing the issue more. However, if you had come, the landing in Minneapolis may have exploded your heart. It almost exploded mine. I was positive we were going to die. I haven't flown a whole ton of times in my life, but this is the first one I've been on that ended with the passengers applauding and the flight attendants exclaiming, "That IS something to clap about!"

I'm starting to get mildly stressed about the wedding, but mostly I'm just excited for it to get here so we can make this thing legal, get drunk in Antigua for a week, and start popping out kids.

Oh! I forgot to tell you. I may have mentioned that Red has been hanging out with Chuck on occasion. Well, I brought her back to the cities over Memorial weekend and went to a party with her and Chuck was there. He wasn't coincidentally there, of course. It was close to his house and Red definitely invited him, but I couldn't believe he actually showed up. It was pretty awkward at first and, by the time I was actually getting comfortable talking to him, Red was slapping Dustin and it was time to go. Oh well, no harm done.

If you get a chance tomorrow, stop by the ol' homestead and pat me on the back. I'll need it. Right around 2:00.

Love,
Angie

Hey Dad,

I've been feeling a strong urge to catch up with you today. More than usual, that is.

I saw you in my dream last night. I was shopping for a present for Taylor, browsing an adorable selection of Sesame Street banks, when you sashayed into the same store as me to do a little shopping of your own. You looked exactly like I remember you, like I always want to remember you, in your Lee jeans, your green Carhartt jacket, a black cap, and your brown hiking boots that were never once used for hiking. The unpleasant dreams I usually have about you are hard to take, there's no doubt about that, but I would take one of those dreams every night of the week if I could have one like last night's once a month or so. It was nothing extraordinary but you were so well and normal looking.

I still think about you every day and think of all the things I would tell you if I could talk to you. I've fallen behind on these letters more than I wanted to or planned to, but life just doesn't want to slow down sometimes, especially now that I have a puppy.

Oh, the puppy. You would adore her, but you would shake your head if you knew how much we paid for her, especially in light of all the health problems she's been having. She has a permanent skin condition that we've been told by the vet is primarily cosmetic. It's really just a bad case of dandruff, but we are to bathe her once a week and keep up on brushing her or she runs the risk of getting a skin infection. We've had her for just over a month now and haven't had the bath experience yet, as the vet did a biopsy two weeks ago to confirm the disease, and didn't want us bathing Maisy until her stitches were out. You should have seen the poor thing. She had three big shaved, bloody spots on her back. To make matters worse, she has a condition that, for both us and her, has been far more painful than the skin thing. I couldn't tell you the technical name for it, despite hearing it at least a dozen times, but I can tell you that essentially her bottom eyelids are turned inward and her lashes are rubbing against her eyeballs, causing irritation and lots of tears. So, the same day as the biopsies and a few vaccinations, the vet decided to temporarily "dock" her eyelids. I couldn't look at the poor thing for almost two hours after Nic brought her home and carried her into the house. Her face was really swollen and her bottom eyelids were sticking out so far that I swear I could have seen down into her innards if I'd forced myself to look.

The poor little thing has been slowly recovering and we even got a few good days of happy Maisy with no lampshade around her neck and no irritation in her eyes. She was like a totally different dog, much more energetic and happier than usual. Unfortunately, one of the lids flipped back inward and that eye started watering again. We took her in today to have her back stitches removed and, while we were there, a doctor other than her regular doctor took a look at her and decided it wouldn't be worthwhile to dock the lid on that eye again. So, he sent us home with a cream that we have to put on her eye ball six times a day. Later, another doctor called and told us that she thinks we should go ahead with the procedure to (hopefully, fingers crossed!) fix her eyes permanently as soon as possible. Nic made an appointment for a week from tomorrow and figured, what the hell, might as well get the spaying out of the way that day too. That promises to be a miserable weekend and I'm already anticipating that I'll cry most of it away.

This is such a stupid and whimsical notion and I'm sure it's almost entirely due to the fact that Maisy was born so soon after you died, but a part of me actually believes that you sent her to me, to help heal the pain. I have learned more in one month from one little puppy than I ever though possible. It didn't come easy, but I have come to terms with the fact that there are times when I will need to cancel my plans at the last minute and it SUCKS, but sometimes the most unpleasant things are the most important things. Red had a free room at a nice resort up the shore a couple weekends ago and I was supposed to go with her. Mike was going to babysit but Maisy had her biopsy and first eye procedure the Wednesday before and she was such a mess that I just couldn't justify leaving her with anybody else. I was beside myself upset about missing out on the fun girls' weekend that had been so built up in my mind but, in the end, I'm so happy I stayed home. That resort isn't going anywhere. My puppy needed me. I will most likely have to cancel much-anticipated plans to go out in Tower with Aurora this weekend and, surprisingly, it's a lot easier the second time around.

For all the health problems, all the hours I've spent worrying and agonizing about Maisy, all the tears I've shed already while she's been in pain, all the tears I've shed because of my own disappointments at having to cancel plans, all the shit I've had to clean off of my shoes, the front yard, and the kitchen and bedroom floors, all of the weekend mornings I've been awakened at 5:15, all of the weekday mornings I've been awakened at 2 or 3am, all of the mostly sleepless nights on the couch listening to Maisy struggle to get comfortable in her crate with that damn lampshade on, all of the stress of the kennel trying to take her back, I wouldn't do it any differently if I could go back in time. She's an angel and I love her and she so clearly loves me. You always said you can't imagine coming home and not having a dog to greet you and, as much as I loved Sam and love Lucy, I don't think I ever fully understood that feeling until now. The laughs far outweigh the tears. Dad, I caught her licking the jam off of my toast one morning and actually just shrugged my shoulders and ate it anyway. You know that's not me. I just hope and pray that when we get through this initial bout of health issues, we will have a happy, healthy dog to love for many years. And when I'm not hoping and praying for that, I'm hoping and praying for the strength to just get us through until that day comes.

Tonight I finished reading a book called Still Alice about a Harvard professor who is diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimers disease just before the age of fifty. Although I would have given anything to have you around for another twenty years, this book reinforced my gratefulness that you at least went quickly and we didn't have to see you get old and your quality of life deteriorate. I was always a little terrified that we might lose you to Alzheimers someday, maybe because you could never seem to remember my name, especially when your sister was in the same room? I don't think I could have handled you ever looking at my face and not knowing who I was.

Red and I have booked our annual late spring/early summer getaway. We're headed to Seattle three weeks from today. I tried to get out of it this year, sure that I shouldn't be spending any money with the wedding coming up (ha, like that's happening...the saving money, not the wedding...the wedding is DEFINITELY happening), but she talked me into it, mostly by offering me a loan until after the wedding. I am excited and you know what? Why the hell not? I'm getting married in October (holy shit!) and with marriage comes kids (hopefully) and before you know it, it won't be so easy to just get away anymore. I know way too many people who have gotten married, had kids, and settled into their lives only to regret not seeing more of the world while they had the chance. So, see it I will. In fact, Nic and I have already discussed travelling to Italy about a year after the wedding. Hopefully all of the pieces fall into place.

You know, Dad, as much as I miss you, I try to make sure to thank God each and every day for allowing me twenty-seven and a half years with you. I'm one lucky girl and, yeah, losing you was and continues to be awful, but I wouldn't trade our time together for anything in the world.

Love you,
Angie

Dear Dad,

Ahh, finally a break in the action to write you a note, catch you up on all the exciting shit going on in my life.

Our puppy came home to us about a week and a half ago. Her name is Maisy and, aside from her ADD (which she totally gets from Nic), she's pretty close to perfect. She's already over seventeen weeks old, so not a teeny tiny ball of fur. She's very mellow and loves, loves, loves people. Well, her people anyway. A lot of times she's afraid of people we meet on our walks...especially people with big dogs. She loves kids though. She and Taylor get along famously. She's exactly what I wanted...a cute little yellow dog to cuddle with. The first week we had her, there were some accidents and a serious meltdown almost every time we put her in the crate, but she's improved so much already. Now when we tell her to kennel up, she runs! In the right direction! Keeping up with her is a lot of work, especially because every time she leaves the room, I'm concerned that she's dropping a deuce on the floor, but we have encountered far fewer frustrations than I expected from a puppy.

Red, Maisy, and I went home for Easter weekend on Friday morning. Your Gootsy wasn't nearly as rotten to the puppy as I expected. They basically ignored each other, which was perfectly fine with me. Maisy tried to initiate play a few times, but Goots growled and snarled at her in that crabby old lady way we all know so well, and my submissive little puppy ran away and left her alone for a few hours until giving it another try.

She LOVED being able to run around off the leash at home and that was my favorite part of having her up there. We let her off the leash briefly in the yard here, but because she's still so new to us, she's usually restrained. I felt a little guilty about bringing her back here and putting her back on the leash. Mike and I took all four dogs for a nice long walk on Saturday afternoon and Maisy really impressed me. She stuck pretty close and, when she wandered off, Boo was really good about rounding her up. I sure wish you'd been there. I don't doubt for a second that you would love this dog and have so much fun with her. She would love you too. They always did.

Dog talk aside, the weekend was actually pretty hard for me. It's the first time I've really spent any significant amount of time outside up there since you died and I only did it this time because my puppy required it. I found myself crying a lot and missing you more than ever when I was out there, surrounded by all of your toys and your projects. It really chaps my ass that you never got to enjoy the new garage that you worked so hard to build. Just sayin'.

To add to the emotional distress, Red and I watched Marley and Me. Well, Red watched it. I caught little bits and pieces and, for the last fifteen minutes of the movie, sat on your bed, crying my eyes out and occasionally yelling out to Red to ask if the dog died yet. It's an awful movie...probably because we've been there...and will be there again.

On Friday night, Red and I went out with Marie, Nate, Brad, and Beth. It was really nice to see them and share some memories of you. I had no idea how sick you were, Dad. I wish I'd known. I want to say that I'm mad at you for not going to the doctor but I know that you did at least twice and the bastards assured you that you were fit as a fiddle. Now I find myself wondering if you knew you were going to die. You obviously knew something was wrong if you were bloated to the size of a pregnant woman and couldn't eat anything and didn't have the energy to take your regular walks for several months. I wonder if you knew when you collapsed if the end was near. Or if it hit you when you had the awful chest pain in the ambulance. Or if you just never knew. I think you knew. It breaks my heart, but I think you knew.

JoAnn came up for Easter, which was nice. I don't remember her ever coming for Easter before. She brought Taylor a stuffed bunny that she said the Easter Bunny dropped off at her house for the kiddo. Very cute. She's so good with that granddaughter of yours. She absolutely adores her and it's so heartwarming. It's cheesy, but true. Taylor's probably wondering who this nice lady who looks so much like Grandpa is.

I had another dream a couple nights ago that you were very sick and we all knew you were dying but we got to say goodbye. In the dream, you were so skinny and old and your ears were huge and when you hugged me, I knew it was the last goodbye. I said, "Dad, I just want you to know..." and there was nothing else to say. My mouth froze and I couldn't say any more. I think maybe it's because you knew everything I needed you to know. I believe I made it very clear while you were here on earth that I loved you, I admired you, and I was so proud of you. I'm haunted by the vision from that dream of you old and sick and miserable and maybe, for that reason, it was a positive dream. For all the shittiness in this situation, I AM happy that I never had to see you like that. The two bloated, tubed-up, suspense-filled days you spent in the hospital sucked for us, but I don't believe you were even still there at that point. Blah, blah, blah. I keep rehashing the same points over and over again, I know, but that's just because I can't stop thinking about them. IT'S SO FRUSTRATING. You lost a parent. You know.

Taylor was somehow even more fun and even more beautiful over the Easter weekend than the last time I saw her. She's smart and funny and loves the fourwheeler. She and her mom couldn't get enough of it. Whether she does or not, the rest of us will always remember that her first ride was with grandpa.

Nic is out of town for the night and it's so weird to have the house to myself. I thought I would miss my alone time when I moved in with him but, to be honest, this sucks. I get a lot of my own time when he works on amps, but I miss at least having him in the house, running up to use the bathroom and give me a kiss every once in a while. See? You had nothing to worry about with us. Less than six months to go before the wedding and we're not even close to sick of each other.

I'm going to eat some beef now. I miss you.

Love,
Angie

Dear Dad,

I picked out a puppy yesterday! I can't even tell you how excited I am about getting her home. She's an absolutely beautiful golden retriever. She was born two days after you died. On the bright side, I guess we'll never forget her birthday, right?

I'm really excited to bring her home over Easter weekend to meet Mom and Lucy and Mike's dogs. I think Mike's family and Red might come meet her next weekend in Duluth. Well, they won't really be coming specifically to meet her. They'll be coming to do wedding shit, but hello! Adorable little bonus! Just between you and me, I think Red is mostly coming because of the puppy. You know she's like that.

We haven't decided for sure on a name yet, though I called Red a little while ago and we went through my preliminary list together. She threw most of my choices out, which sort of pissed me off because I really do have good taste, but at least it will be easier for Nic and me to choose now that we have a shorter list. I'm sure he'll throw most of the remaining names out. If it's this hard to name a dog, I don't even want to think about having kids.

Our new addition comes from a long line of champion hunters, so I think Nic is pretty excited get into the woods with her. He hasn't hunted since his yellow lab (who's still alive, if you can believe that!) got too old to go out with him. Personally, I'm hoping she'll be able to fill a void in my life. Between losing you and Nic working so much (his phone seriously rings constantly) I've been having some trouble coping with the day-to-day. It will be nice to have somebody excited to see me every day when I get home from work. And somebody to snuggle up with in the evenings while I read. And somebody to walk on the lakewalk with anytime I want to. I think she's just perfect for the job. The doctor is going to give her a shot tomorrow and she's a little dandruffy so the breeders are going to give her a bath, but then she's ours. I'm hoping we get to take her home tomorrow night, but it might have to wait until Wednesday because we have pre-marriage counseling on Tuesday. You'd have loved her. I can just hear you saying that you know of a good home for her if we can't keep her for any reason. I hope your crabby old lady isn't too mean to her!

Other than that, not a whole lot is new. We've been diligently planning this little wedding of ours. We have officially booked the honeymoon that I thought was officially booked several months ago and now October can't get here fast enough. I guess I should be careful what I wish for...I'm sure time is going to pass quickly enough on its own and we still have plenty of planning and saving to do. But, still, seven nights in Antiqua! It's hard to not get excited about that. I've already been shopping for swimsuits and self-tanner. Can't have one without the other in my case.

Work is a mess and I think the source of most of my stress right now. I used to be proud of my expertise at separating my work life and home life. When I walked out that door in the afternoon, I didn't think about what I was leaving behind until I walked back in at 7am. It's becoming harder and harder for me to do that. Remember when I told you I wanted a job in a place where everything is a mess and they don't know what they're doing? I'd like to take that back, but it's too late. That's one wish that came true. What the hell was I thinking? I like a good challenge but, holy shit, this challenge is probably a little too good.

I've been having some issues getting along with Mom. I found out that she has been smoking in the house. You know how I feel about that. Well, I feel even worse about it since you're gone. It's so damned disrespectful...but why would she start respecting you now? Anyway, the rock had a talk with her about it and she has supposedly stopped. Not stopped smoking, but stopped smoking in the house. I don't believe it will last long, but we're trying to give her the benefit of the doubt. Or something. I'm glad Mike was the one to walk in and smell gross cigarette smoke mixed with the telltale scent of a shitty vanilla candle (when the hell has mom ever burned candles? She seriously thinks we are mentally challenged) because he handled it a lot more calmly than I would have. I guarantee my initial reaction would have been rage and I would have done my best to make her cry at which point I probably would have made her cry harder and then I would have turned around and driven right back to Duluth. I'm filled with rage just thinking about it. I don't even care anymore if she smokes, as long as she gets off her lazy ass and walks outside to do it. Aaaaand, calm. My temper doesn't work wonders for my stress level.

I'm off to do some puppy proofing/studying. Please continue to watch over me, and feel free to spend a little more time with me when the puppy comes home. Subtle suggestions are welcome. Though we are going to avoid the newspaper-swatting and rub-her-face-in-it schools of discipline, you raised some damn good pets and I like to think I can still learn from you even though you're not here physically.

Love you. Miss you.

Angie

Dear Dad,

Last Thursday marked the three month anniversary of your last day on earth. Three entire months we've gone without seeing you. That's an entire summer vacation worth. It's hard to believe it's been that long but, at the same time, it seems like much longer. Stupid, right?

Today is another gorgeous day. It's sunny and somewhere in the 50s out there. I took the afternoon off of work, just like you would have done and then bummed around downtown a little bit and took a walk on the lakewalk, just like we would have done if you'd been with me today. It was bittersweet, just like so many other things have become since you died. God, I miss you.

On my way home from Canal Park, I was doing some thinking about you and realized that I feel more like you were cheated than those of us you left behind were. I know you're in heaven and you're blissfully, unexplainably happy, but I just wish heaven could have waited a little bit longer. Eternity, by its very definition, never ends so it's not like you would necessarily have been cheated by spending more time here with us. In three months alone, there are a zillion things I wish you could have done, things you could have seen, things you could have heard because I know they would have made you laugh your ass off. Then again, I suppose no time would have been the right time.

Love,
Angie

Hi Fahj,

You would have LOVED this day. It's our first real sneak peek at spring during the winter from hell. Seriously, it's been that bad. I would ask you to talk to God about it, but this one obviously came straight from Satan himself.

Today, though... Today is absolutely gorgeous. The sun is shining brightly, my car thermometer assures me it's a balmy 45 degrees outside, and the roads are wet with melting snow. In fact, if you were still alive, you probably would have taken the day off from work. It's a tough call, really, because the weather forecast told us ol' Mr. Sunshine wasn't going to show his face until Sunday. You would have at least left work early, that's for sure. I'm conflicted between loving it and crying a little because I know how much you would have loved it. Oh, life. It does go on, but not in that same blissful, sheltered way I'm used to.

Red is almost positively coming up to visit this weekend. I think she's a little strapped for cash, as we all are with the economy in the shitter (I got a raise yesterday, but am still strapped for cash because I chose to get married while the economy is in the shitter), but she said Fahj would have wanted her to come. We both know that's true! It's unfortunate Fahj isn't here to come spend time with us, but we're still happy to have each other to help get us through this bullshit time in our lives. In your memory, we will cruise First Street for bums while listening to kool 101.7. We are also going to have lunch with JoAnn on Sunday. It was so nice to visit with her the last time we had lunch and I'm really excited Red will be joining us this time.

We spent last weekend in Tower with Mom. Mike's family also came up early in the afternoon on Saturday and stayed until Sunday evening. Man alive, is that granddaughter of yours fun. She's talking a lot more now and seems to understand everything we say to her. When she's asked a question, she either adamantly shakes her head no or nods enthusiastically and says, "yah." I didn't stop asking her questions all weekend because I couldn't get enough of those priceless facial expressions. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but she did knock one of your deer's antlers behind the dresser in your bedroom. You should have seen how stressed she was! It was adorable. She just kept pointing at the crevice that ate the damn thing and looking at us with concern on her face. Oh Taylor, Grandpa's dead, and even though he is watching over us, I guarantee he couldn't give a shit less about the deer statue's antler being temporarily lost.

I'm off to take a little nap before Nic comes home. We've decided to bypass the treadmill today and take our first walk outside of 2009. I almost said you have no idea how exciting this is, but what a stupid expression. Of course you know how exciting it is!

I hope it's always springtime in heaven...or at least spring half the time and fall the other half. Thanks for killing that damn stupid deer who was chasing Bambi through the woods.

I love you,
Angie

Dear Dad,

Today is one of those days when I really hope you're watching over me...not because I'm doing anything exciting or extraordinary, but because it's one of the (few?) days that I haven't done anything I imagine would have possibly upset or disappoint or embarrass you. Just in case you haven't been watching, allow me to regale you with a recap of my Sunday, a day in the kind of life I'm sure you'd want me to be living.

I woke up early this morning to attend mass, with Nic, no less. Despite all the questions I've had about heaven since you died, I don't need you to confirm to me that bringing someone, especially a non-Catholic heathen, to mass earns me a extra credit point or two in God's eyes.

After church, I came home and got started on laundry, dutifully washing, drying, folding, hanging, and putting away Nic's clothes like a good little wife would. See, I'm practicing! I'm not going to be sick of Nic by October. On the contrary, I'm going to damn near be an old pro at this stuff. Ha.

Between loads of laundry, I watched wholesome reality shows on TLC, took a brief nap, read a book with hardly any dirty passages, reheated for lunch some of the delicious, healthy dish I prepared for supper on Friday, and worked out for forty minutes.

Shortly after I cooked up some spaghetti for supper and ate with Nic, he took off to do some drumming with friends. Since then, I've started a new book and soaked in a toasty bubble bath. I'm now snacking on some light popcorn with a sugar-free, fat-free, calorie-free Coke and watching the Oscars (for the first time in my life, I can fast forward through commercials!)

See, Dad? You raised a good kid! Well, at least one. I really can't speak for the other two. You should definitely watch over them anytime I'm out having drinks and see for yourself.

I miss you.

Love,
Angie