daughters and winecaps

A student comes to see me during office hours. We talk about many things, including her long term plans. I want to return to my family, in California -- she tells me.

Part of me thinks it could be the weather. Sacramento versus Madison after all. But the larger part of me knows better.

We are a mobile society. We expect our kids to move, chase the career opportunities, relocate with their spouse, relocate again.

A friend once said to me – I’d go and live where my daughter and her husband live, but there’s no guarantee that they’ll stay there.

And so my heart melts when a student tries so hard to beat the professional odds and slowly make her way home...

...because I know that when our kids do return, all’s right with the world again.


Hello, daughter one, on State Street, on a coffee break...






Hello, daughter two, on State Street, after work...





Home.


Ed came over with winecaps tonight. Homegrown, on woodchips. We sautéed them in butter and guess what? Two hours later, I am still alive to tell you about it.





Yes, when you’re in Wisconsin and you hear the clatter of hooves, you think – cows. Not elephants. My obstetrician once said that to me (before he abandoned his practice, sold all and went off to forever sail the seas of the Caribbean). I’ve never forgotten it.

After all, the goal was to grow winecaps. For the name alone.

At home.