Recently I have been reminiscing about my grandfather and all of the lessons he taught me. The funny thing is, I dont even think he was aware that he was doing it. It wasnt until much later in life that I became aware of what was being taught.
For instance, one warm day in Santa Cruz, California, I was helping him out in the fields near his property. With the neighbors permission, his plan was to expand the size of his field and add more crops. Back then a handshake and a gentlemens agreement is all that was needed to use each others land.
There I was, his proud assistant and like all assistants (especially grandchildren), I was sent to go-fer this or that. This particular day he wanted me to go to the tool shed and bring back a certain tool. He needed a scythe, which was a long-handled implement with a curved blade used for cutting tall grass or grain.
Im standing in the tool shed looking everywhere for that scythe. As does a typical child I yelled out I cant find it.
He yells back in Italian l dentro, translated as Its in there.
I hollered out again, I dont see it.
At this point I think he became irritated with his little...
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