Who's your Daddy

Last weekend my friend Joe S visited. He grew up in Cheshire, MA and I’ve known him since he was about 15 years old, a teenager at St. Stephen’s Parish, Pittsfield.
Joe is now in his mid-thirties. He lives and works in London, U.K.

This weekend my guest has been Susan Hughes, also from St. Stephen’s. We worked out that I’ve known her since she was fourteen years old. Susan lives in Atlanta, GA with her partner Lisa Coston. They drove here last Thursday and will be heading north again tomorrow.

I stayed overnight with Lisa and Susan in June 2006 when I was driving from New England to Florida, to begin my retirement life in Sarasota. It’s been a pleasure and a great deal of fun to be with “Miss Susan” and “Miss Lisa” as I call them.

Yesterday afternoon we were in downtown SRQ in a wonderful kitchen store “Sur la Table”. I was chatting with Sam, a sixty-something year old Spaniard who is a salesman there. He was trying to get me interested in a Cappuccino making machine.
He was charming and delightful, and we began to talk about Europe and our favourite places there.

Our genial bonhomie was interrupted by Lisa who crept up, and addressing me said “Daddy, can we go home now?” So I have been “Daddy” (pronounced in a distinctively Georgia way) to Lisa and Susan since.

We went to St. Boniface Church together this morning, and I “warned” Lisa not to call me Daddy. This if course gave her the green light to do so, causing momentary confusion to my dear friend and colleague the Revd. Andi (Andrea) Taylor who was the celebrant at the Eucharist.

We stopped off at Sarasota’s water front park on the way home, enjoying the bay, the yachts, the water fowl, and the outdoor art in SRQ’s annual sculpture festival.

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