Day 286: Sixteen Years

It was sixteen years ago today that we lost our dad to cancer.  On our walk we strolled up Newton St. and I just found myself standing there in front of their graves.   He died at age 70, just a few years older than we are now.  The melanoma was the result of a lifetime of exposure to the sun, first as a marine in the south Pacific and then thirty years carrying mail around the village.  He was a red head with very pale, freckled skin and of course he did not pay attention to using sunscreen.  I think about how much he would have enjoyed his ten grandchildren.  I miss him very much.

Across the street, cars and pickup trucks fill the parking lot in front of Carriage House.  Rumors around town are that the plant is going to downsize or close completely.  Apparently, they have outsourced or sold their peanut butter division and are moving it to Kentucky.  Since it is the second largest employer in Fredonia, closing would be disastrous for Fredonia and the entire region.  I hope it's not true, but I suspect we will know soon.

We picked up cousin Betsy and took her out to Sheridan where Mary had organized a book and music sale to raise funds to help spay and neuter cats.  She calls her fund "Fix Your Feline" and she has arranged to direct the funds to local veterinarians to help families that can't afford the procedures.  We were delighted because we got rid of four boxes of books and two boxes of old music albums and only brought home one book.

I picked all of the remaining tomatoes because a heavy, killing frost is predicted for tonight.  It seems very early.  I have been resisting the onset of late fall cause I don't want to give up the long walks and photographing the colorful scenes.  The turkeys have descended on the bird feeders, but the squirrel was not scared at all.