Frank Faulkner was a kind and friendly man. I
don't remember ever seeing him in a suit, although I suppose he had
one. He always wore bright flannel shirts and overalls and work boots.
He worked hard. He had a horse and wagon with which he would go down
to the beach at Lake Erie and take a shovel and fill the wagon up with
gravel. I suppose he sold the gravel to contractors and builders. He
and Grandma never seemed to have much money to throw around - but I
don't remember ever hearing a harsh word from them. They just made do
with what they had.
He always had a healthy appetite. After lunch
he always laid down on the couch by the window in the kitchen and had
a nap for an hour or two. The window sill always had geraniums on the
sill. After hauling all that gravel he was, no doubt, tired and had
sense enough to rest awhile.
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