This year of 1995 has been busy. I work at building fences around town (Findlay) and neighboring cities. All kinds of yard fences. Picket of wood and vinyl, chain link, board, rail, aluminum and others.
The work is vigorous (hard). The weather was hot all summer, 90's and near 100 degrees. I sweat much. More seating than I ever did before.
Had grandsons helping. Chad and Coy. Tried to show them the honor of hard labor. Don't know if they got the lesson. Probably encouraged them to get an education (college). So be it. I hope to find something easier in '96. I think of Colorado at times and wonder what might be available. Perhaps a care taker job up in the mountains. I have to remind myself that although I feel ready to go (farm or ranching) others see me as I am. Old. I resist and deny the fact that I just might be too old to cut the mustard.
Then Bob wrote at the bottom of this entry years later:
Feb. 22, 2002
78 1/2 years old.
Surprisingly I find I'm still able
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