all about father daughter time. My dad came into town last weekend and it doesn’t matter how little we talk (we have a text message kind of relationship), because when we come face to face, we pick up right where we left off. The Friday he was here, the weather couldn’t have been more horrible, which made for a perfect shopping day. We met up with the most gorgeous woman I know for lunch, my grandma, who couldn’t stop jabbering about how much my hair has grown. Does your grandma rant about the most insignificant things? “Mimi, pass the bread,” I would say. “Your hair is getting so long, Maddie,” she would say. “Mimi, how’s your lunch?” I would say. “Good, but I just can’t get over your hair! It’s so long.” Needless to say, our entire conversation centered around my hair and how much it has grown. The next day, my dad and I drove to New Hope. The weather had cleared up – leaves were turning but hadn’t fallen and jackets were barely needed to keep cool. It was perfect fall weather. A highlight was not stumbling on a vintage featherweight machine for $50, but finding a Ladies Home Journal from the 1950s with my grandma on the cover (she was a model). The women at the store’s front register got a kick out of that! My dad snored horrendously each night, which kept me up till 2 or 3 AM, but I didn’t mind because it reminded me of the time when I waited to hear his loud huffing and puffing to sneak out at night. Damn, that was a long time ago. I think I was 15-years-old-then. Thanks for a great weekend dad!