Today I had a long and delightful talk with my mom. It's hard to call her when I'm traveling, and she's not really an online sort of person. I could almost hear her beaming through the telephone. My senior year in high school I did a pen and ink drawing of the Osterholz Windmill. It was a local landmark everyone knew. I sold the drawing (much to the distress of my mom and art teacher) to the business teacher at the high school.
I actually came out rather ahead on the deal because the business teacher had sweatshirts printed with the drawing on them and sold them to raise money for a scholarship. I ultimately ended up winning that scholarship.
I guess at some point it was given as a gift to our school's vice principal.
A few days ago my mom got a call from our old vice principal. It turns out she's retiring and is having to downsize.
She wondered if my mom would like to have the drawing.
My mom is on cloud nine. She's wanted that drawing for years.
As my mom put it, "The windmill is coming home."
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