Looking Like Santa

It's almost 1:00 a.m. and I'm finally done for the day. Or nearly so.

On Saturday, April 27, I was at a Knights of Columbus fundraiser near the entrance of Coborn's. We were collecting money for Special Olympics, Camphill Village, and similar outfits.

At one point, a boy came by with his (mother?). He looked at me across the table, smiling mischievously, pointed at me and said "you look like Santa." That was a day-brightener.

#2 daughter and Son-in-Law stopped by a little before 10:00 p.m., on their way to the Twin Cities. He showed me a document he wanted proofed and revised as necessary: which I had done a bit before midnight.

Reading, proofing, editing, and revising several hundred words isn't the sort of thing that lulls me to sleep, so I wasn't exactly listless at the end of the process.

Dishes were waiting, anyway, so I had something constructive to do while unwinding.

Now, though, I really should get to sleep.

Thursday: Routine Errand Becomes Day-Brightener

Today was mostly routine. My wife talked with #2 daughter on the phone, Our son went to school, #1 daughter is still looking for work, and #3 daughter is still trying to shake some sort of bug.

On the other hand, there was a little variety in the day's routine.

I took the van to a garage, and learned about several options for getting more heat into the passenger space:

• Have a pump replaced - it costs about $500 USD
• Put a sheet of cardboard over part of the radiator during cold weather

I'm opting for the cardboard.

And, I picked up some office supplies at the Wal-Mart supercenter. Going down one of the aisles, I passed a mother with two kids in her cart. The girl was sitting in the front of the cart, the boy stood in the center. The sides of the cart were about chest-high for him, and he had a hand on each side.

Until I came in sight. His eyes locked on my face, and got very wide as his jaw dropped slightly. He raised on hand to point at me.

I try to be polite to people, so I said "hi" to him, paused a moment, and walked down the aisle. About three paces later I heard the phrase "Santa Claus" behind me.

When I told my wife about the meeting, she said that I couldn't trim my beard until after Christmas.



This is a kids-eye view of me. I don't know: That's a serious Santa, at best.