Mr. G

We went to give our legs a bit of a stretch through the fields behind my mom's place (see extra).

And I got an unexpected treat: Mr. G was out tending to his veggie and fruit tree garden. He was our neighbor across the street for my first 14 years of life! At the ripe age of 89, he was still puttering about, a bit slower and a bit more bent, an unlit cigar dangling from his mouth, and with the same sense of (slightly off) humor I recall. When I asked about his wife, he just said: "I can't hear and she can't see: we're perfect for each other. 62 years we've been together now. Not even a dog stays that long with a bone!" he added with a twinkle in his eyes.

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