Tag Archives: Dad

The Last Ritual

Micki is one of the most no nonsense women I have ever met. She is clear and strong in all things as far I can tell. Her wedding day was no exception… she set her veil a little more squarely while her sister smoothed her beautiful gown and moments later, her Dad came to walk her down the aisle. No whining, no false starts.

She and Boyd now have two gorgeous, head-strong daughters… they will be good women, too.

This is no way to run a blog…

… at least that’s what they tell me. Well, I have to say that this month has been completely outta control so the blog has been wishful thinking at best.

I made the mistake of cleaning my windows on one of the early sunny days… everything was fine until I stuck my head out of the skylight and got a good look at my south roof. After a minor panic attack, we started the process of getting bids to replace the roof. This one has been on since 1981 so, yes, it was time but I thought we might be able to wait until this summer. Not so much. Now we have to wait for the lovely spring weather to clear so the guy we hired can come do the work.
Of course, in anything like house repair, one project always leads to another. ;0)
Last Saturday Opera Boy smiled as he handed me an electric drill and a flat bar… I spent the next few hours prying the first part of the old front porch off of my house. Apparently, we have decided to replace it. And then comes the paint. Sigh.

Meanwhile, March 13th was the 10 year mark for my Mom’s death. I had planned to run a beautiful little photo essay about her but the further I got into the process of scanning old photos, I realized I have a lot to say. Dad’s 20 year mark comes in May so I am thinking I might wait until I can do them both some justice.

This one is from their wedding in July, 1950… Grace H. Benson married Allan B. Bosworth… he was just out of the Navy and she was still in. They look happy to me and so very young.

To be continued…

A common thread…

Opera Boy used to annoy the hell out of me at the gym. Of course, he wasn’t Opera Boy yet…. we just called him Ron. His ability to trap you on the treadmill was legendary… talk you right through your allotted time. Over the course of a few years, I got kind of used to him. His topics were fairly varied and he talked to everyone so I didn’t mind so much after a while.

One of his favorite topics was, and still is cars. He made some points early on because little foreign cars, old sexy sports cars were his thing. Now, you may need to know that my only car since 1979 has been a 1973 MGB-GT and you may need to know that my dad and I used to run rallies and autocross when I was in high school. Dad and his father used to race his ’46 MG-TC and Grandpa had a big yellow Jag when he lived in Japan.  Ron has a 1973 Alfa Romeo Spyder and a 1976 TR-7/8…. garaged and in project mode. So, naturally, Ron and I had some common ground there.

The other thing he liked to talk about was photography. What a coincidence… I do, too.

Since we became a couple in late 2005, many of our weekend outings have involved cameras and cars.opera_blog1This beautiful 1941 Packard was one of about 7 period cars at the Oregon Ballet Gala in the Spring of 2007….not a sports car per se  but very voluptuous in a Mae West sort of way.

We have made a habit of the All British Field Meets at PIR, Portland Swap Meet, and  one fabulous trip to the Concours d’Elegance at Pebble Beach.

When my time frees up a little there will be a gallery on my new web site dedicated to those sleek, sexy machines.

I’ll tell you more about Opera Boy later.