Thursday, June 16, 2011
He is a 74-year-old expat german who came to Canada in 1958 - he's been a Canadian longer than I've been alive. He has been a door-to-door Encyclopedia Salesman, a Furrier, a Rabbit Farmer, a Real Estate agent, and a Landlord. On this Eastern Ontario morning he wrapped a towel around his head to absorb sweat and protect against mosquitos.
He is my father.
Last week I spent some time with my parents, and each morning Dad and I would pull out the wheelbarrow and chainsaw and head out into the bush to chop up recently-fallen trees. I was the wheelbarrow man, carting logs along the deer path across streams, roots, and rocks like a chuckling hillbilly as he cut debris into lengths that fit a woodstove.
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