Last week was the last week. I’m wistful and I’m not. Wistful because second- graders are becoming third-graders, third becoming fourth and fourth closer to, "Goodbye, Mama and Papa." Meanwhile, parents are doing their best to slow down this rocket ship.

“Did you know that we never recorded our marriage certificate?" Sue said recently. “I went to the Hall of Records to get our affairs in order and found that although we were legally married, we apparently never turned in the paperwork."

I made a Smart & Final run recently. I bought Windex, Lemon Clean Pledge, a package of Soft Scrubs and a mixed case of San Pellegrino Limonata (which may be the best drink on the planet) and Aranciata (orange).

Sunday is a good day to go to the dump. Every day is a good day to go to the dump. However, cool, spring and a truck bed loaded with overflow from the garage is a day that says, “Look out, dump. Soon I’ll be driving through your pearly gates.”

The Panorama Vista Preserve suffered through years of drought but this year, after a series of storms came through, vegetation has returned making the area north of the Panorama Bluffs east of Manor Drive a perfect place for a hike.

Recently we checked into a hotel. The friendly woman at the front desk asked for our names, confirmed our reservation and then looked up and asked if we wanted a room for the handicapped. I wasn’t sure I had heard her correctly so I asked if she might repeat it.

It’s surprising how many people have had surfboards fly off the tops of their cars. I met two at the pool on Wednesday who had it happen, and one of them was a fireman. I assumed firemen were expert at tying knots and exempt from surfboards misbehaving and ending up in the ice plant on the s…

Things happen in the locker room. Things that may be an opportunity to discover who you are,  where and how are you. Things that might deliver the reckoning you did not expect, but require in order to keep you current and awake.

I read an article recently in the New York Times Magazine about an event called the Ice Mile. It is a mile swim in 41-degree or colder water. Only 243 people in the world have completed it.

I drove through the Kern Canyon to Lake Isabella earlier this week. The river was fat and brown. This was no time to drive off the road, I thought, because if you do, you will die and your car won’t be of much use to anybody in your family.

Jay Smith emailed to say that Bakersfield’s Frank Bidart has a poem in the Jan. 23 edition of The New Yorker. He added that “Mourning What We Thought We Were,” might not be terribly complimentary toward his hometown but if the poem is good and is true, who cares.