Notes from a Post Parent

With our youngest child grown, flown and on her own, my husband and are truly post parents. Others in this phase seem to travel, or acquire pets, or visit grandchildren. Me? I have houseplants and a jar of sourdough starter in the refrigerator. Parenting is, I realize, a state of mind, and the sourdough swells to fill the space. I am always aware, on some level, that it needs to be fed and may generate loathsome smells if I forget it for too long. On the other hand, if I cultivate it properly, something wonderful may come of it, and indeed, at various points, some things already have. The girls all give us much to kvell about--one is making her way as userfriendly liveware for a travel company, one is out to save the world or pass the bar, whichever seems harder, and third is going to be a professor one day. And I reliably make quite passable sourdough wholewheat bread!