Rob hates immigrants who work at McDonald’s and don’t learn English. They apparently don’t know how to toast the muffin of an Egg McMuffin correctly.

I had an awful awkward moment when I opened one gift and it was the same printer that Marianne and John and Erin had given me the day before. Sharon and Main had both bought it off Amazon from my Wish List, but something went wrong. I felt so bad for Dad and Sharon. It’s an expensive and generous gift and I felt like I was disappointing them by already having received it.

Although it’s a sweet sweet piece o’ computer accessory. I had stayed up late the night before setting it up. Dawn and I haven’t had a working printer in months, so it’s a big improvement over the status quo. Plus it’s a copier and scanner. And it’s fast and quiet.

Dad and Sharon also quite generously gave me the Palm Z22 PDA that I was wanting. My Handspring Visor is really old and I’m worried it’s going to die any minute now. I keep so much information in that thing. An old girlfriend of mine used to refer to her purse as her ‘life,’ because everything she needed was in there. I think of that when I think of my old Handspring Visor. Hell, it was like one of the first gifts another old girlfriend, Erin Sellman, gave me, and we broke up in 2001. I think she gave it to me for my birthday in 1999, so it’s coming up on 7 years old.

The biggest treat of the day was getting to see my Dad’s paintings. He’s been learning to oil paint for the last couple of years, but I’d never before seen any of his work. He showed us his little studio in the basement with like a dozen works. Mostly they were studies on paper. But one was a terrific seascape on canvas that he said was his first painting. I figure if that one was his first, then he’s going to do some great stuff. And he says that he’s doing it so he’ll have something to give his children, so I’m all excited about having a painting done by my father.

Actually, something of both an inspiration for him as well as maybe a burden is a painting he has done by his father. It’s a landscape done in watercolors and it’s absolutely amazing. It’s signed and dated, the date being the year 1924, so my grandfather painted it when he was 12. So on the one hand my father treasures this, but on the other hand it’s so unbelievably well done that I would find it incredibly intimidating.

Although I suppose it’s similar to the way that I think of my grandfather when I’m working on the house or making something in the woodshop. Grandpa built his own house and was a master craftsman, and I’ll never be able to do his level of work. But I’m happy being able to do what I can do. My father is confident in what he’s doing and having fun doing it and wanting to learn more, so I’m happy for him.