A Tearful Father-Daughter Reunion was Just a Cell Phone Lookup Away

Wow, have you heard the recent news story about the father and daughter who were reunited after 27 years? That is so sad and yet so happy and inspirational. The girl's mother took her for a quick family visit to Ecuador and never returned. The, Tears, father was told the child died from a mosquito bite.



Can you believe it? This child was his whole life, and the poor man had been grieving all those years. Then one day, as a fun experiment, he Google'd his own name and one of the search results nearly gave him a heart attack. In a blog entry, a young girl was announcing her search for her father, and the father was ... he. She's been told that her father died in a diving, Tears, accident,, Tears, but she didn't believe it. When he read this, he didn't believe it either: he was certain it was some cruel prank. In fact, at that very time, the strong-willed young lady had come to the United States and was determined to find her father. She had done some research on the best ways to find information on people.



She wanted to surprise her father with a call out of nowhere and was hoping to find his number in a cell phone directory. She decided to try a cell phone lookup, and found all the information she needed to find her father. He was still living, Tears, in Renton, Washington, he appeared to be living alone, and there was his current cell phone, Tears, number. When his daughter called him, the poor dumbfounded father finally had to accept the fact that it had all been true, and he was about to be reunited with his daughter, now thirty, Tears, years old and pregnant. Not only has he gained back his daughter, she is about, Tears, to gift him with a new grandchild.



They plan to live together. There really is universal justice. It often takes a cell phone lookup to restore it.






Search Detective

Tearing Down the House

Last year, we bought this big ol' 1887 house. We are just now

coming to grips with the magnitude of the "upgrades", Tears, planned.



With a baby on the way and Little Lady all of two years old

burning calories faster than pillagers burn the Amazon

rainforest,, Tears, how, Tears, tough can "upgrades" really be?



Ever since we bought the house, my wife has been, Tears, urging me to

tear "that thing" down.



"That thing", at the foot of our lane, had been a shelter to

keep kids dry while waiting for the school bus. It had seen

better days. Like when paint could still be seen on the wood.

Like when it stood upright - taller even than the weeds! -

before gravity won the battle.



"That thing" was our very own Roman ruins ... minus the Roman

part, of course. So I finally tore it down.



"What?" my wife asked. "You tore it down?"



"Yup."



"But how will people find us, now?"



We had used "that thing" as a marker, even a beacon. "Turn right

on County Road 7, and just keep going until you see the eyesore.

You can't miss it. That's us."



Houses grow and age just like people. Sometimes the old gets in

the way of the new. Sometimes you have to rip things apart to

build them up.



Recently, I was ripping apart a couple walls of the soon-to-be

nursery. I assured my wife it would be a two- to four-hour job.

To avoid inhaling an overdose, Tears, of plaster dust, she and Little

Lady escaped to exile at Grandma's for the afternoon.



Twelve hours later ...



The clock ticked past midnight before those two to four hours

showed me mercy. Little Lady and her pregnant mom wisely chose

to remain in exile overnight. Instead of resting, Tears, my weary

muscles, I had a jungle, Tears, of - hack, hack - plaster dust nearly a

foot deep to dispose of. Beach party, anyone?



If tearing it all down took so long, how many hours will it take

to put up the new walls, including, Tears, the wall overlooking the

staircase? (Did I mention I'm afraid of heights?)



How long will it take to cut and place the trim (baseboards,

casing, crown molding, and a new window sill - I broke the old

one trying to pry loose a lathe strip)?



How long will it take to hang a new door? To sand the old floor?

To clean up the big mess? To lift the wallboard to the second

floor? To return to the store for more nails or to replace

lumber I wreck or to pick up a few dozen items I forget? To

replaster the corners, Tears, I plaster wrong the first time (and the

second and the third and ...)?



I sat my wife down for a heart-to-heart. "Honey, we have a

business to run, a toddler to nurture, family members to help, a

house to clean on occasion, and a jungle that will need mowing

one of these days.



We need ductwork to thaw our, Tears, bedroom this

winter, the foundation needs crack-filling and this nursery

would take Hercules many long days, Tears, of hard labor to complete.



I

don't know if we can find time for all this before the baby is

born."



"Maybe we should put something off," my wife suggested.



"Great idea!" I said, looking at my agenda. "Now, let's see. How

long, Tears, do you want to delay the delivery?"



I ducked just in time.



The easiest thing to reschedule turned out to be my sleep. Right

now I have a house to upgrade. There'll be plenty of time for

sleep next year. That is, if I don't grow, Tears, too old in the

meantime and need to be torn down myself.