The other day my father came to my new house to visit me for the first time since I moved out about four months ago, and it was a great time. I never knew I would have missed him so much, but I guess I'm a little more mature now so I can admit it.
We were talking about my new blog, my new job and my new home. We then started talking about the past, and it got me thinking about activities that we used to share. Camping, hiking and playing catch to name a few. I never realized that those would count as hobbies. But of course they do! Take an activity that you like to, and do it. That right there is a hobby.
My father is a great man. Honest, strong and intelegent. I can think of no one greater to dedicate my blog to, and no one I would rather have as a dedicated reader, even if he is the only dedicated reader.
We used to go on this wonderful hike when I was a kid. It was in Alaska, where we lived for ten years, just the two of us. At the end of this two mile hike was a beach, not all sand, but not too rocky either. Our goal for the hike was to reach it to this large rock, the only real landmark on the whole beach. When we got there we would play catch with two gloves and a baseball, and just hang out. Sometimes we would take lunch, but most often not. It was great, just time with my father.