Super Dad

My Dad always comes for a visit not long after I have moved somewhere new. He arrives, and calmly and methodically fixes all kinds of little things around your house: sticky hinges, crooked screens, the squeaky garage door opener, the tightness of your cabinet pulls. All the things that kind of bug you, but you neglect to fix are magically repaired after Dad spends a few days. He and my Mom just spent the last week with me at the farm, and amongst many other projects we built a hen yard, and welded the lids off of some vintage 55 gallon barrels that were in the big barn. We didn't know what they had contained, and he fearlessly held his welding flame inside the openings and said, "if anything was gonna blow, it would have by now." Besides being a gentleman, cancer survivor and master mechanic, my Dad is the fairy Godfather repair man and fearless badass, and I am the luckiest daughter in the world to have him. I love his outfit here, too: my thrift shop Pepsi hat and welding specs. Couldn't be cooler, for real.