to all the dads, step dads, and people who act like dads or take the place of dads, whatever your religion (or lack there of), political leanings (or lack there of) or sexual orientation (or lack there of)! You make more of a difference than you'll probably ever know. So thanks. A bunch.
We are lucky this year to still have my Daddy with us. He's doing pretty good -- just had his second bone marrow biopsy and is waiting for the results to confirm if he does have myelofibrosis. The doctor wants to be sure before he starts Daddy on any medications.
This is Daddy's 55th year of being a father, and his oldest grandson will be 35 this December, so he's had a lot of years of being an awesome grandfather as well. For my youngest son, he's the only father-figure Sk8monkey has ever known.
I made a pound cake (yum, lemon!) and took some slices over to the parents' house. I'd made a little topper with my Cricut electronic die cut machine and the nifty SCAL software, using cardstock and printed papers, and stuck in in the biggest slice with tooth picks.
Of course, I neglected to get any pictures, and I sure wasn't walking back to get the camera. It's just too hot, and I'm not going to risk heat stroke. Or worse. I'll have to go one day this week and get a picture of the topper. I thought it was cute, and Daddy liked it, so that's what counts.
I'm still in the blah mood so far as writing, though I can tell it's slowly getting better. I have an idea for a series of short horror stories, to be set in a fictional North Carolina town. Two or three plots have come to me so far, so I feel like I'm getting my mojo back.
Hallelujah! It's been a long haul up the writing hill, I'm ready to crest it and get some momentum going.
So, Gentle Readers, there you have it, the latest news from the home front. Take care and have some cake. Ice cream is good, too.