Dad and Starbucks

My mom just informed me that she thinks I'm very witty. With those words of affirmation in my back pocket, It's time to blog a little. I discovered 12 hours ago that I should no longer blog after 10 pm. It causes overactive, sleepless thinking. Noted.

Almost every Sunday afternoon I can count on 3 things. A) Running errands with my dad B) Intentionally being asked about life C) Free starbucks. Since Dad and I are the intellectual type, we enjoy us some coffee and good conversation- and skinny jeans and good music and playing ukeleles and wearing berets. The last 4 are questionable.

My dad is a blessing and a treasure. He has been so consistent and solid over the years. I've learned so much from him.

For instance, 21 years ago Rick had a ton of black hair, big glasses, a love for sweaters, a great laugh.

Now, the glasses are gone. The "ton of black hair" has turned into a little graying black hair. He still loves a good sweater. His laugh still makes me laugh.

He's hardworking, has a servant heart, he wears socks with sandals, he's witty, he's smart, he's kind, and he always takes the time to pet our 12 year old basset hound everyday. He's strong and when I was little we used to flex our muscles and watch WWF (wrap your mind around that one). He laughs at my jokes. I see him when I make certain facial expressions and every morning at our kitchen table when he meets with the Lord. He loves my mom with his whole heart. He likes to garden- and he's really good at it.

I just love him. I love the view He gives me on our Heavenly Father.