Pots and Dylan Go to School

On Friday, February 23, I motored out to the airport, had lunch with longtime AA friend Ken Gilbert, parked the car, and flew to Washington Dulles.  I had a hugely important appointment the next day: accompanying granddaughter Dylan Caroline to “Donuts with Dads” at her pre-school.   Her dad was in MBA class that weekend, so Robin and Dylan invited me to fill in (would it be called “Pastries with Pots” in my case?).  Could not miss it. Would not miss it.

Landed at six, hopped in Robin’s car, kissed Dylan and Carson, who were all smiles (I’d seen a lot of them in the past three months, and I was now as familiar as Linda, er, Nana).  At home, Henry the Westie went nuts (he must have been thinking, “Oh, good, that grayhair who plays hard is back”).  After some spirited tug of war with the terrier, Robin and I sat down for a long yak about her new life.  Almost all good news, which gladdened my heart.

Carson was a little ill, and she woke up at 5:15 Saturday.  I managed to get back to sleep, but was up by seven, ready to go.  Donuts with Dads started at ten, and we were there on the dot.  Dylan was a little shy at first, but she warmed up.  And I was eager to meet some new folks, younger dads but a few grandfathers, too – some like me standing in stead, some in addition to their son.  Had some great chats with the dads of Aya, Taria, Lila and others.  Making friends is such fun, and I was made to feel very welcome indeed.

Lila and Dylan at the Insect table (a nice idea, by the way: teaching at an early age that bugs are not icky nor ugly).

Returned home by way of Home Depot, picking up a couple of tools and some picture hooks.  Ate a quick lunch and got to work hanging four pictures.  At four I unpacked my trusty Dahon Helios folding bike, pumped the tires, and headed north to the Washington & Old Dominion Railroad bike trail.  Had not been on the W&OD for almost a year, and it was nice to be back.  The west wind was fierce, so I turned that way, riding west to Sterling, then hoisting the sail and almost gliding home, a nice 15-mile pedal.  We headed to Vapiano, an Italian eatery, for dinner.  And we were asleep a little after nine.

We padded around Sunday morning, some last play with kids and dog, and they dropped me at the airport.  Robin told me later that as they pulled away from the terminal Dylan said “I wish Potsy lived in Virginia.  Then we could see him every day!”  That made me happy.  And sad.

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