The Sampling

 There has to be something to write about.  We all know already that my dad died.  

So what else?  

What follows is a bulleted list of possible topics:

• Funeral service at end of month. Dad's birthday yesterday.  Almost 95.
• Cleaning out basement. Going well. 
• #1 Son in Indianapolis this week. Jazz Kitchen. Will be there with bells on.  Literally.
•  Played bridge. Never made contract. Got moody after 5th rendition of,  "Oh, you were SO close." 
• Dentist tomorrow. Crown popped off while I was flossing. Never flossing again. 
• My turn to pick the book club book. Need recommendations.
• School carnival this Friday past.  Nancer and I did a bang up job of bagging popcorn. 
• Switchyard Park field trip next week. Working up a history chat. Worried about rain.
• Annoyed with Northern Lights photos everywhere I look. Dream of mine to see NL. Didn't want to get out of bed. Missed opportunity, regrets.
• Heading to school for Penultimate Sunday work session.  Adding Sub-Plans to list due to dental situation.
• Friends and family checking in with love and care this week.  Feeling heartened. 

These are all good topics. That last one is my favorite. 

The Date

 One week ago I was hanging out with my father, talking about my uncles and Franklin Park and Blue Hill Street. Remember when I blogged about that?

 When I left on Sunday evening, my dad wasn't looking good.  He hasn't looked "good" for awhile, but he looked in such a way that I wondered if his situation could possibly get any worse.

Come to find out, his situation did get worse. He can't talk now and is breathing weirdly and isn't eating.

May 11 is his 95th birthday and maybe he'll make it, but if  he doesn't, we'll just say he was 95 when he died because he was basically there, so let's cut him some slack. Come on. 6 days away.  

He could rebound in  his classic DAN HEFFERNAN style.  For the last few years, I've called him (to others) the man who does not die and I've seriously entertained the notion that he may be immortal. 

I remember my dad was sick one weekend when I was about ten or eleven.  He never missed work and was rarely ill.  He had a pad of paper in bed and was working away on something.  He worked a lot.  When I checked in on him in the afternoon, he told me, "I've written my epitaph." He showed me his notepad.

I'm not 100% sure I have this exactly correct, but it was something like, "He strode across the rambling world like a colossus." 

My mom was kind of amused but kind of not.  

Not sure what's going to happen with my Dad, but I'll keep you posted. Please keep him in your thoughts. 

The Testing

 We're in STATE TESTING WEEK.  A nerve-racking time for me and for most of the 3rdLanders.  

 They're working hard.  Bringing honor to their families.  

 The state test is tricky and is regularly updated to be longer and more challenging for our Hoosier children.  Like most children, they're resilient.  They soldier on.  

In contrast, I'm a wee wreck of worrying and woe.  When I was younger, I hoped and worked for an end to standardized testing for young kids. Husbandman and I opted out of testing for our own kiddos, but the anti-testing movement of yore has dwindled away. Testing shows up like a bad penny for even our youngest kiddos all across the land.

3rdLand will finish our 4 mornings of testing tomorrow.  Then we'll get back to learning about hurricanes and wetlands, writing and drawing in our notebooks, reading novels, singing songs, telling stories.  We also have a plan for a field trip to Switchyard Park soon.  

Joke's on you, Testing Testers of Indiana.  We do what we want. Most of the time.