,,,, when my father was working outside I was the tool go-for and when he was done I had to clean up and put everything away . He would say things like this ,,,,,, go in the shop and get that thing of the work bench . I would return with a half a dozen items or more hoping I had the right thing . He used to tell me to help him find small tools he was using like a folding ruler while all the time he had it in his back pocket or looking for his glasses while he was wearing them . I’m glad I don’t take after him ,, my shop is always in good order .
Some good memories never go away. Dad and I could work for what seemed like hours together without saying much at all but we were not alone with our thoughts. It felt like we could have a whole conversation and never say a word. I rode with him, worked with him, fished, took many a rough canoe trip and later as many motorcycle trips with him as I could. He was always Dad and he had all my respect. I sure miss him and I’d be happy to pick up his tools any time if he were still around.