Baking, stewing...

Hey kids,

Sitting here baking sugar cookies and watching salaciously voyeuristic shows on the Discovery Channel. First a show about women with a syndrome that causes them to be sexually aroused 24/7, for years on end. Now yet another show about hoarding. They should change the name of this channel to the Freak Channel.

I plan to embellish these perfectly round sugar cookies similarly to the cupcakes that I'm making for Wavy's birthday, and wrap them up as party favors for her classmates.

Ohmigosh. Now a commercial for the Ronco Pocket Fisherman. It looks virtually unchanged since the days that I had one as a grade-schooler in Panama. Mine was brown and white like this one:



I can't remember if it was an effective fishing device or not, but I am closing my eyes now, and perhaps am seeing one in your near future, Jakob.

...

Nana and Papa, after Papa retired from the Navy, have made careers out of managing things, mostly yacht clubs, living and working on-premises. They haven't done this for some time, but for a 20-year stretch there, they were quite good at it, and I lived a large portion of my formative years on or around boats.

There is a storage facility a few blocks away, maybe about a 10- or 15-minute walk from the house, where my parents store the RV when they are not here. It's maybe a couple of acres where people store RV's, boats, trailers, etc. The current managers live on-site in a cute little house with a yard and garage and an office. For the past few years, whenever my parents stop by to futz with the RV, or take it out for a few weeks, they remind the managers to never hesitate to give them a call if they plan on leaving the job and need someone to replace them.

Well, last Monday, that day finally came. The owners of the facility, rather than the managers, called my parents and said that the current caretakers would be leaving soon, and the vacancy needed to be filled. By December 1. The lady that Papa talked to said she'd like to see a resumé. So that's what I've been doing for the past couple of days, trying to distill my own father's illustrious career into an 8.5x11-inch typewritten page. Especially when more than 25 years worth of it is highly classified and he's not even allowed to tell anyone about it.

Ooops. Just burned a batch. Ah well.

But, I think I did a pretty good job, and I put together a nice cover letter and sent it all out in the post yesterday.

I don't know how these people wouldn't hire them on. I think it's going to be just a matter of days when we all get the news that they will be moving out here, and quickly. Still processing how I feel about this. I haven't lived anywhere near my parents for nearly 22 years.

I'll keep you posted. I should get back to paying more attention to my cookies. Love you both. Sleep tight.