Mevelyn Estis
April is our daughter. It was at my insistence we sent her to a prestigious college in up state Illinois for her undergraduate work. She had a small scholarship but the expenses were mostly on us. We also had a son at Harvard we were paying for. She could have gone to OSU here at home but I wanted her to have the privileges I'd missed and the experience of being on her own. Her father reminds me of this often.
April's grandparents, brother, fiancee, father and I traveled 600 miles for her graduation. Our beautiful April, who wore a vintage dress Navy jacket on campus and Indian headbands, was graduating. Our only daughter whose father one summer left home at three a.m., so he could pick her up in Illinois at 9:00 a.m., and she thought he meant 9: p.m.
Our flower child was finally graduating. "Incidentally" she told us at the graduation, although I don't have enough credits to graduate this quarter. You can watch me walk across the stage. This revelation caused her father to fly into a rage, calm down and fly into another. That was the first time I knew everyone walking across the stage isn't necessarily graduating. Her father wasn't too happy either about paying for another quarter.
April was in graduate school now and staying with my cousin in Louisiana. When I called her, or did she call me? Well anyway I'm sure she called me because I distinctly remember vowing not to call her until she did call me. She was just home between semesters and I thought she would surely call just to let us know she'd gotten back OK, but she hadn't called yet. Almost two weeks passed and she still hadn't called. When she left Louisiana she left her car with the red light on apparently overheating. How many times had her father told her: "Take care of your car April and it will take care of you". I had a little money put aside in the credit union I was going to send her to get her car fixed, a stash I hadn't told her father about because if he had to pay another bill of any kind he'd be very unpleasant. Well, he did, and he was.
April is married now, the Director of Training at a college in Massachusetts. As for her father, well, in the past he wasn't too good-natured about higher education but like his daughter, things have changed.

Did you hear?
Ella's owner, that would be Dee, left her husband? No!
Over a period of time the ladies who walk their dogs have taken to using our pet's name as means of identification.... I'm Pepper's owner.
Recently Dee's husband, Dave, has been walking Ella, their basset hound, because his wife of 25 years had left him for another man - but who!
He broke down in front of the ladies and was inconsofble. As our friends walked up with their pet we'd bring them up to date.
At bridge Shea's owner, Betty Lou, casually mentioned she heard Bailey's owner, Dee Burton, was getting married. She'd just recently lost her husband and this sounded premature to us.
To who? We all queried? To Pedro the gardener.
Connie, Prince's owner, said Pedro was already married.
And Bear's owner, Christine, said it couldn't be Dee Burton since she just returned today from Thailand.
Max's owner, Rosalind, said she'd called Pedro's house and was angrily told by his wife to stop calling because Pedro doesn't live here anymore.

So that's who Ella's owner ran off with - Pedro the Gardener
Case Closed,