Boyd Cochrell

Happy birthday to my favorite father, who would have been 95 years old today (and likely hating every moment), and would certainly not have approved my buying those purple petunias I've set next to the St. Francis bird bath against the back fence.  When he died, my mother bought purple pillows, in defiance, to assert her own preferences.  And I, defiantly, came to love cello and violin music, despite his scathing ridicule.

Much of that was put on—he was one of the most tolerant of men, and loved life and his family and friends.  Some of his favorite things:

democrats

The New Yorker

Tanqueray martinis

The Mikado

Paris and Rouen

double crostics

huckleberry pie

dark chocolate

Beethoven's Emperor Concerto

Dick Francis mysteries

Norwegian lefse with green chili instead of 
       white flour tortillas

Yellowstone

New York

dogpaddling

Strauss operas

sourdough pancakes

Yachats, Oregon

John Lee Hooker's I Ain't Got Nobody

huckleberry pie again

image:  Boyd Cochrell