• Grandpa's hands were big and you would think that after all of the hard work he did on the farm that they would have been really hard. But they weren't. I remember my little hands fitting right up inside of his and always thought that they were the softest skin I had ever touched. We always walked hand-in-hand when we took walks together. Sometimes my dad would go along with us but I would always hold grandpa's hand. My dad would just smile and walk along with us. He already had his turn with grandpa while he was growing up so now he was sharing him with me.
• There was a little two-lane path in the back of the farmhouse that led out in two different directions. One direction would take you into a small woods where my dad would go hunting in the Fall. The other path took you out into a field that had only one big oak tree almost right in the middle of it. We took that path into the field to discuss stars.
