I try to be grateful for something every day, but I’m an up-and-down sort of folk and sometimes need reminders.
With the new propane stove, I was able to remove the stovepipe I’d put through the barn wall, covering it with a piece of plexiglass and enjoying the new porthole window. But there’s a constant reminder of my Dad here; note the rough edges of the circumference made by the drilling of holes in a circle, then cutting through hole to hole with a small sawblade. He taught me that.
Maybe the holes were a little close, but it’s inch-thick siding I went through. The stovepipe was held upright outside with two thin strips of aluminum, nailed to the wall. My neighbor, gone ten years now, laughed and said (he being an architect) that it wouldn’t stand up to the winds. I had a hard time pulling them off the other day.
I miss them both.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology