Funny thing happened on the way to retirement:  the job went away.

That's how it's been for my husband.  In May, as you know if you follow this blog or my other one, the university where he'd been employed for the last 24 years, closed its doors.  A number of the faculty who found themselves in the same boat were at the unenviable age of not-quite-old-enough-to-retire. 

It has been an interesting ride for the last seven months, and we're still hanging on to see where this boat sails.  Meanwhile, we've batted back and forth the wisdom of simply telling it like it is.

If you were an employer who got a resume reflecting a professional life, but the job that was being applied for was not a professional job--or was a lesser job in the profession--what would you think?  So far, the "elephant in the room" approach hasn't served well.  Some jobs that Michael was definitely qualified for and certainly would have done a wonderful job with have yielded "nay".  We've felt it may have been in part due to the unanswered question of why he wanted such a job in the first place. 

Today's job app was one with a difference:  There's a paragraph in the cover letter directly answering the question of why this professional is applying for a part-time, assistant-type job in his field.  (The answer is, in a nutshell: Career plans to work at the old job until retirement were truncated at an awkward time of life.  The lesser job appeals because it is still in the profession, but does not hold the demands of something a little more ambitious.  The duties could be carried out competently and happily now and, all things being equal, well into the foreseeable future.  So, it seems like a win-win....Didn't word things that way, but that was the message.)

We'll see.  Anybody out there who's been in that boat?  How did you (or someone you know) handle the "I'm not ready to retire, but I don't want to be the boss at this stage of life either" question?

In the course of today's/tonight's adventures, here are a few things I saw:

• Soapy rivulets in my driveway as a result of cleaning my kitchen throw rugs outdoors
• A stray marigold growing where I only planted zinnias
• The face of a dear friend
  
• A BMV branch tastefully decorated--for a BMV branch  (New Haven)
• My husband's twenty-four year career as a librarian in bold black and white
• Dark chocolate raspberries and cherries
  
• A storm door ajar in the wind as if to say, "Come on in."
• A pelican's eyelid which closes from the bottom up instead of top down, like a human's
• A majestic lion and lioness at dusk
  
• A giraffe so close I could have touched his head
• A colobus monkey with natural waves
  
• A friend in the church parking lot at 11PM
• What a finger that needs 30 stitches looks like (only a photo--that was enough for me)
• A teenage aftermath of a fun Cedar Point day

I wonder how they would combine in the same dream.  What do you think?

Friday was Mr. Mac Day in Fort Wayne.

If you are not a native, you'll wonder "What in the world...?"  If you are from the Fort, you may well have participated in one of those in the past 49 years--or, if you haven't personally, you almost certainly know someone who has.

Mr. Mac Day is the all-city tournament and events day for the Wildcat Baseball program here.  The original program funding, etc., was from the McMillen family, benefactors of our city in the area of health and recreation.  Thus, the end-of-season celebration day's name.

Wildcat is a great program--everyone gets to play in the course of learning baseball fundamentals.  All my kids played at one time or another.  They had some great coaches along the way.

As I thought I about Mr. Mac Day, two memories came to mind about Wildcat.  Both of them were from Zach's Wildcat days.

One day after a game, we were leaving the park and Zach spotted his friend Josh.  He stuck his head out the window to call "Good-bye!".  The only problem with that was that I was not paying attention to Zach--I was paying attention to my maneuvers for leaving the place where I had been parked and to exiting the park.  Part of my routine on a summer's day when I have been parked with the windows open is to turn on the AC after I start the car.  Once the hot air has blown out, I put up the windows.  I tend to push the levers for both front windows at the same time.  I did so on that particular day.  It is not my habit to watch the windows go up.  So, I wasn't aware of Zach's head being stuck out the window I was trying to put up--until he called, "Mom!"  Now, I don't think I could actually have shut the window on his neck--I think some built-in safety feature would have stopped the window before I was choking Zach with it--but let me tell you that it took a few minutes for my beating heart to get back to normal!  And, that's not to mention Zach's beating heart!

The other Wildcat memory did happen to be associated with a Mr. Mac Day.  Zach had been asked to assist his coach at the event, so Michael took him to the park very early in the morning to help with set-up before several hundred Wildcatters and their families arrived for the day's events.  I don't remember exactly everything that transpired, but as it turned out, some scheduling matter in Zach's day made him miss out on being present for the drawings that came at the end of the day--the drawing in which his name was called as the winner of a bicycle.  He didn't find out about it until it was too late--and someone else got the bicycle.  I have to say that was the worst case of tears I've ever had to deal with in my 25 years as a mother.  "Inconsolable" is describing it mildly. 

When I mentioned yesterday that it was Mr. Mac Day, guess which memory Zach brought up?  I think I'm thankful he didn't even remember the bike incident--and thankful that he has long since forgiven me the window incident.

Do you have any summer baseball memories, Wildcat or otherwise?