Ladies and gentlemen of the class of '99: Wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it. The long term benefits of sunscreen have been probed by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience. I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Oh, never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded. But trust me, in 20 years, you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked. You are not as fat as you can imagine.

Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubble gum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind, the kind that blind side you at 4 pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts. Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long and, in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive. Forget the insults. If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters.Throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don't know.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees. You'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't. Maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either. Your choices are half chance. So are everybody else's.

Enjoy your body. Use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it or of what other other people think of it. It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance, even if you have nowhere to do it but your living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do not read beauty magazines. They will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents. You never know when they'll be gone for good. Be nice to your siblings. They're your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but with a precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people who knew you when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard. Live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths: Prices will rise. Politicians will philander. You, too, will get old. And then you do you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund. Maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse. But you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair or by the time you're 40 it will look like 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.

Advice is a form of nostalgia. Dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more that it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

I must admit that I'm looking forward to dancing the funky chicken at our 75th anniversary.

Saturday and Monday were construction days. Very productive with two headers now in place and most of the beams in place for the dining room. The electrical work is progressing well (drilling for wiring through joists and cripples is the homework assignment of the week by the way). The old door to the kitchen framed and ready for sheetrock. The doorway to the back porch is also framed and just awaiting the door which needs another coat or three of paint. This is the turning point! Up until now it has seemed that everything was always coming down and being destroyed. It's actually kinda scary knowing that we will have to make a decision on hard wood or tile for the floor there very quickly.

As you are probably well aware from one of the last updates, we have discovered a "soaker hose" as Kim likes to refer to it connected to our tub drain. The previous owners had revamped a small bedroom into a bathroom. As seems par to the course, it was a tragedy of errors. Strike two was when our contractor, Paul Wells, pointed out that the sink they installed had a negative angle on its drain pipe. In other words, it is slightly tilted the wrong way so it never drains properly and causes glurg-glurg-glurg noises when the water is running. We're not waiting around to see what else wasn't done right -- we're doing a preemptive strike and replumbing the drainage system properly. To that end, Kim and Paul spent a good portion of the day talking about whatever people working on sewer lines talk about while crawling around under the house in their little jumpers. They stubbed in the new drain which we'll be putting it into service in a few weeks when everything is connected.

Does anyone want an aloe plant? I've got a bunch now in pots and don't know what to do with them all. The mother plant had children and they are just getting out of hand.... Rumors have it that I'll be getting a Cook's Smoke Tree shortly once its acclimated to its new pot at the nursery. Very, very deep purple leaves.

Sunday night was a blast. Dave Brattstrom held his sort-of-annual Frozen Food Party. Everyone invited brought something frozen and he had the toaster oven, stove, microwave and oven all working overtime so we could sample the wonders of modern culinary art. Just to keep things interesting, Dave set a secondary purpose to the day of drinking 99 bottles of beer which we then put on the wall. I regret to say that we only sampled 42 before we gave up.... Of those, most were what is affectionately called "dumpers" and his cacti were watered well. The exceptions were what made it all worthwhile -- Bigfoot '98 and Samischlaus '97 were my favorites with honorable mention to the Rogue Imperial Stout (porter? brown?) for export to Japan and whatever that Czhech pilsner was following the horrid fruit beers (although anything after the fruits was a godsend and would have been praised highly).