Remembering Pa

It was a year ago today that my Grandad (Pa) died. So it only felt right to pop round my Nan's with my sister and 'phews and check she was okay. She seemed in pretty good spirits and we were worried she may not have realised but at the end of the evening she quizzed my sister as to who found him, could she have saved him if she had been there rather than in hospital etc. We reassured her that there was nothing she could have done and he went in the best way possible, in his own bedroom, in his pyjamas, after a whiskey or three. The way he would have wanted.

So picture of the day is of my birdhouse that my Pa made me (we had a family of tits living in there last year). He used to make them quite a bit. That was until my Dad found Pa's leather work jacket in the garage with it's arm in shreds. Luckily no harm was done this time but the lathe had to go! You've got to love old people.

Love you lots Pa, you really were one of a kind.