At Large in Ballard: The paper anniversary
Over the years I’ve confessed to a slight obsession with anniversaries. Especially for the first year after a major life change I feel like I’m caught in the rip tide the life guards warn about when swimming; the more you fight it the deadlier it is. Just swim parallel to the shore and eventually you’ll escape it, they counsel. That’s how I feel about anniversaries, whether of my daughter’s birth or a friend’s death, swim with it.
Ever since my dad’s stroke three weeks ago I’ve had trouble concentrating on much beyond reading about brain disorders, interrupted by informing anyone in earshot of the dangerous cholesterol count of food they are eating (don’t ever consider pound cake again). I am also trying to help my colleagues plan a community event in honor of automating the Ballard Bell (just be there July 5th at 5:30 p.m. for a great party and spare me further effort). I’m so distracted I left Bartell’s with one of the shopping baskets (empty thank goodness) still hooked over my arm, and I wasn’t parked particularly close by.