Sharon in Alonzos

Beautiful afternoon in Baltimore. The Jays defeated the Hounds in a
surprisingly close lacrosse game. The snare drum player was
exceptional. And now we're at that classic restaurant at the foot of
Keswick, enjoying a burger. Great afternoon

Flash flood

A view from the office of our little trickle of creek roaring over the driveway. This is the first time since moving to Gracerock that I've witnessed water over the drive. As I stand here with Brave Obie at my side, I can see the water rising. Sharon is gonna have a long ride home from Thurmont!

When invasives collide

> You know that it's bad when the new invasive curls itself around the old invasive in order to get a leg up. My walks now need to include a pair of cutters and a hand sprayer of Roundup
>

Sunny Sunday afternoon

The cool spring temperatures have caused the woodshed run low - so Obie and I are spending this sunny afternoon refilling. Obie does his part by standing directly between the cut chunks of wood and the trailer - indicating which piece would be the next logical item to carry. Regardless of the potential of personal danger - the possibility that I may trip over him - Obie stands his ground, making sure I keep on track.

And now, after cutting, hauling and splitting a half cord, my back is aching and I'm missing Chris & Alex and their young vertebrae. But a cold beer sure tastes good.
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Crossing the great name divide

We're getting older, as are our children and our friends' children. Even though it seems not so long ago that they were in the elementary school play, now they're graduating from college, getting married, having babies and becoming productive members of society. The question that faces both this generation and the next is... what do they call us? You know, when do I somehow change from Mr. Forrence to Mike?

This is a topic that many of us have faced. For me, it has been when the parents of my childhood friends become peers in some way. The example that comes to mind is when I first served on the parish finance committee almost ten years ago (so you don't need to do the math, it made me just under 40). Also serving on the committee was my friend Regina's dad. For many years he had been Mr. LaCroce. Now he was Gene. As luck would have it, I now serve on the MSS Board with Mrs. LaCroce. Who would have thought lightning would strike twice? Most of my childhood friends' parents are definitely still Mr./Mrs. Wivell, Topper, etc. But not all. And I really can't put my finger on when the change happened.

Then there's VoxStaff Joe. He was at Mother Seton School - maybe in 5th grade or so, when Sharon taught there. Sharon and his mom were fairly good friends - so of course, she was Mrs. Forrence and I was Mr. Forrence. Then he came to work for us. Even though specifically invited, I think he had the hardest time calling me Mike. For the first three months, he probably didn't call me anything.

So - when do we invite the next generation make the leap? I'm thinking a good marker is when they graduate from college. When do you think?