|This picture is from 5 years ago. Braeden and Tabor. Does every uncle teach their nephews how to tie them up?|
Hello, this is Tabor Dahl*.
It is about 8:30 Mountain Time on Sunday evening. I was just calling you, Braeden, for your birthday. I realize that was yesterday, but when I had a chance to call you I knew that the Seahawks game was still going on. I wasn't sure if you folks were involved with that or not--I guess I thought maybe you ought to be if you weren't. I hope you had a good birthday.
I still haven't talked to Mark for his birthday. I left a similar message then. This answering machine may just be in a dark storage unit somewhere that nobody ever checks. If you do check it, happy birthday and I hope all is well. I will be more diligent at calling in the future. My ancient cell phone went the way of all the world and so at some point I need to start over with putting numbers in my new phone that I can't activate yet because we live in the middle of nowhere. I'm not sure if this is all relevant or if any of it is, but I hope things are going well for you and I'll talk to you later.
I love you.
Here we are at a Seahawks football game a few years years ago (our cousin Harvey was playing and yes, we were as cold as we look):
Come and visit me again, Tabor (Dahl). You don't have to break your leg again, but come and see me.
*He always says it's Tabor Dahl just in case I 1) don't recognize his voice--I do--or 2) know a lot of Tabors--I don't. Actually I tease him about it but it isn't his fault. We are genetically predisposed to like the name Dahl. It's a family trait we are all afflicted with. We wear the name Dahl pretty proudly.