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You might recall that I blog for Ode Magazine, my latest entry just being posted today. You can take a look at it here. Today’s photo is a partial screen shot of that link.

The topic of the post is flaws, specifically if what we consider as being personal flaws may exist for a reason. And having reasons, perhaps they aren’t flaws at all. Take a minute to consider something about yourself you don’t much like. Has it ever taught you something, or provided you something of value? My guess is that if you dig deep enough you might just learn something important.

Anyway, if you would, take a minute to read my Ode post and, if you are so moved, leave a comment or link to it on your Facebook and/or Twitter pages. I’d love for it to get a little traction.

There we are, two small men with big hearts, my dad and me. I don’t think there really is much to add to this post, a picture being worth so many words, as it is. But maybe I can still add a few more.

Every Thursday, Al, my dad, comes in to PSCS to assist with a class. After school is out I drive him home and then stay to have dinner with my parents in the dining room of their retirement community. Each week we drive past this moving company. I’ve always wanted a photo, but there being just the two of us in the car made it too hard. This past Friday we had a PSCS student with us who was only too willing to oblige.

Melinda’s and my dinner tonight began with a cocktail and eight oysters, four for each of us. We went out for a fancy dinner at a French restaurant in Seattle called Café Campagne, courtesy of a gift certificate presented to us by an appreciative PSCS family. We did our best to pretend we were back in France, beginning the meal with oysters. I, of course, had confit de canard as my main course. There was a good baguette, along with salted butter, and well-paired glasses of wine, too.

Most importantly, we had great company.

The evening reminded us of the 26th day of the sabbatical, back when we had just arrived in France and were staying in Pornichet. Melinda and I left the girls to sleep in that morning and biked to a market where we enjoyed oysters and a glass of wine.

If you can’t tell, we are getting geared up to return to France, which we will be doing for a month in less than 4 weeks.

I’m posting late tonight as I got home late, a little before 11pm. Why? Because tonight was the annual PSCS trip to Emerald Downs, the local racetrack, that’s why!

It’s always a good time, and because of my dad’s connections at the track he is able to get our group free admission and free grandstand seating. We take the students on a behind-the scenes tour of the racetrack offices, including meeting the stewards, the photo finisher operator, the main camera operator and the track announcer. Today’s photo is of the two of the students being interviewed in the paddock before the 5th race.

So, yes, I’m home late. But it was for a good reason, a fun Friday night in the company of a great group of people.

Do you ever get excited about a food item that you’ve packed in your lunch and know you are going to eat later? I mean, who doesn’t, at least at some time? That was the case for me this morning, long about 11am. I started thinking about the cookie in my lunch, the one in today’s photo (I even took a picture of it!).

It’s a wheat-free chocolate chip cookie from PCC. Melinda bought one the other day and since tasting hers I find myself daydreaming about them.

At what point should I worry? When I find myself taking a picture at school of a cookie in my lunch? When I’m daydreaming about cookies? When I eat nothing but wheat-free cookies from PCC?

A couple nights back I wrote about the Perretz-Rosales family, mentioning the De Colores Bookstore they created for Simon, their youngest member. In today’s photo I’m featuring Simon, or Si, in a picture I took of him in 1986 or ’87 in my apartment in Olympia. He’s 6 or 7 years-old.

Once a week back then I’d meet up with Si and his dad, Bob, late in the afternoon. As part of his therapy program, Si would run sprints not far from my apartment. I’d be there as part of his support team, and then bring him back to my apartment where the two of us would spend some time together and have dinner. He liked to listen to tapes while I made the meal.

On this particular night I remember making a stew. I asked Si what we should call it. He said, “Brunch.” So thereafter, this stew, this particular dinner, was known as Brunch.

Twice before (here and here), I’ve written about Dorothy, each time mentioning how she, our 93 year-old next door neighbor, was responsible for us being chosen to purchase our house (it was a seller’s market). What I haven’t said is that Dorothy regularly makes cookies for PSCS, a tradition that goes back several years.

In fact, Dorothy providing baked goods has traditional roots that extend beyond PSCS. She used to bring her home-baked thoughtfulness to one of the local hospitals. That is, until the administrators stopped the practice, since Dorothy’s kitchen is not health department approved. PSCS students and staff were only too happy to step in and provide taste buds and stomachs for Dorothy’s treats.

The school always makes a thank you note and in today’s photo you see Dorothy with the latest, the one that came in response to the cookies she provided last Friday. This note, created by a staff member and a student, involved a sewing machine and creative design. Dorothy was impressed.

A few years ago, under Melinda’s direction, the two of us installed, by ourselves, a 5 zone underground sprinkler system for our yard, garden & plants. Per her style, Melinda spent hours (days, really) mapping the whole thing out, doing oodles of research, fine-tuning everything, and otherwise accounting for practically every eventuality.

My job was to dig the trenches, something I did with glee. You see, I learned I like digging holes. It suits me and, perhaps, gives me something to fall back on if this education thing ever peters out.

Well, speaking of digging, a couple weeks back I was, under Melinda’s direction, digging a hole for a new plant she wanted in the back, near our outside stairs. I placed the shovel in the ground and, you guessed it, broke one of the sprinkler pipes. So, under Melinda’s direction, “we” fixed it today.

Melinda & I spent last night at the home of our dear friends, Bob, Griselda & Simon Perretz-Rosales in Olympia, about a 90 minute drive from our house in Seattle (that’s them in today’s photo). I met them in 1986 with Simon (Si) was, I think, 6. Si is severely brain-injured and Bob & Griselda were looking for a college intern to assist them with their home-based therapy program. I became that intern and the experience, to understate it, changed my life.

Frankly, they are the most remarkable people I’ve ever met.

In 2001, under Bob’s & Griselda’s leadership, De Colores Bookstore was created to provide Si a place to work while bringing meaning to his life AND to the lives of others. Si has a love for languages and the bookstore reflects this, helping people learn more about their culture and the cultures of others. It’s staffed by volunteers.

I wouldn’t be able to do justice to the brilliance of this bookstore in one blog entry, even if I wrote a thousand words. Please take my word that the place is magical, one of those things that transcends materialism and ego to just make sense. Learn more here and on Facebook.

It’s not Memorial Day weekend in France (given, this Monday is not a French holiday). But still, a year ago this weekend was a big deal for us in Nantes. It marked the return of the Royal de Luxe marionette company. I know I’ve talked about this many times before, but it really was a big deal for us, especially for Melinda. The weather was not only spectacular, the whole town shut down to celebrate.

I went to my photo archive for today’s photo, a picture I took last May in Nantes of a street poster announcing the return of the Royal de Luxe. And I point you to this entry I wrote a year ago today for more detail. You really should check this out.