Dad just returned my morning call. He’d been out at his accountant’s, dropping off his tax stuff for 2006.

“I’m still alive!” he says when I pick up the phone. I told him yesterday that I am going to get into the habit of calling him each morning so that someone is checking in with him daily now that he lives alone; just a little insurance that he’ll never spend more than 24 hours (and that would be bad enough) laying on the floor or stuck in bed without help after a stroke or something. “If I live another 20 years, that’s 7300 phone calls you’ll have to make!” he says with a chuckle.
He thought he might go golfing today. There are only hints of green grass around Kelowna, he says, and it isn’t very warm yet.

I'm told (three times) that there is a pair of twin calves out in the barn. They'll be put out in the corral tomorrow and Scott hopes to take a picture.

NP: The Beatles, 27 #1 Singles=1

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