One day last week on the way back from town we stopped by my grandpa's mill with my mom. I love the guy. He's 92 and just can't stop going. He goes out there almost every day unless the weather's completely miserable and just tinkers, working on his machines, sawing boards, even making a small profit I think. I really love the presence that he and Birdie are in the boys' lives. They definitely care, I'm sure the boys sense that, but there's also an expectation they don't want to dissapoint. And what I love best is that when we visit at their place across the street everything is SO SLOW. And they respond to that somewhat and become quite calm themselves, playing with the same fifty-year-old toys I played with when I visited them as a child myself. It's comforting.
But he's never used hearing protection and that explains his hard-of-hearing problem. He just handle anything on his ears, including a hearing aid now. I like this picture how mom and the kids are covering their own ears with their hands.
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