I was very close to my cousin's grandfather, a farmer, and he was my favorite Old Timer. I still have his two man saw over my fireplace. I had spent time at the other end of that saw with him on occasion. I was living on my great uncle's farm in those days being raised by my father's cousin and her husband. Great Uncle and great aunt lived in the same house. I called him "Grampa" and my Grt Aunt I called "Gramma". "Grampa" had a garden to the wonder of all within a radious of miles. Towards the end of his life, I had just returned from my two years vacation with Uncle Sam with a side trip to the orient. Grampa was dying slowly and I was able to help him out in his garden somewhat every weekend when i visited. I have often wished I had spent more time with "Grampa and Gramma". He had so many little tricks to raising vegetables earlier than anybody. He was so attuned to nature, I wish i could have learned so much more from him. The person I wish I had listened to was "Gramma". She had soooo many wonderful stories, especially about my great grand father and even more about my great great grandfather who was a missionary in Hawii. I seldom listened with concentration to her stories, those were always about "ancient history" to me. I preferred listening to my cousin (her son-in-law) and his friends. Those stories were about hunting and fishing and farming in a time and place i could better relate to. Gramma was stricktly old time. I had no time to listen to her "rambling". Today, I wish I had listened better. I somehow picked up the story telling habit from those folks back in my farm living day, but I never had time to listen to "Gramma". She was the treasure I never fully appreciated.