Father's Day

Great Father's Day. And believe me, after a year watching the Monkey, I earned it. Or as I told my brother-in-law (himself a father of a 7-month-old): I earn it every day, but today I get to enjoy it.

The Monkey Mama put me on Monkey Patrol starting at 6am. But I was so wiped out from yesterday's sun and regatta exertions that I had passed out 9pm. So guess what? 9 hours of sleep. Count it, baby!

I hung out with our friends from North Carolina as they trickled downstairs. (They were kind enough to pay us a visit to meet the Monkey.) We saw them off around 9am, and then made a few phone calls. I got to talk to my dad, dad-to-dad, which was a treat.

My dad is often pretty free with advice. But he's been almost laconic with regard to parenting advice. His lone bit of advice for the first year ("Pay attention") was oddly -- yet profoundly -- very helpful. So I asked him for some advice for the second year. Something to do with walking. My mom helped him with the simile, but he compared a toddler's ability to walk to a 17-year-old's ability to drive. Yikes.

Anyway, I'm starting to "get it." Thanks, Dad.

I was damned if I was going to stay around the house and do something productive; it's Father's Day fer crying out loud. Then inspiration struck: we went wine tasting.

We went to Pearmund Cellars and Piedmont. Pearmund's had the better wine -- their 2004 Ameritage Reserve was stellar -- but Piedmont had the more beautiful scenery. So they both win.

And so did we.