Andrew

The other day we got an unexpected call from my brother Mike. He called to see if Dad was home and was surprised to find me in Saratoga. (Mike, you are not reading the blog!) Anyway, Andrew was headed down the Northway, and wanted to stop in, but did not have his grandfather’s phone number. So he called his dad. Mike was in Colorado and gave us a call so Andrew would not be driving and talking on the cell at the same time. Remember, in NY that is a no-no, unless you are doing it hands free-talking, not driving.

Man has my nephew matured over the summer.

Traveling about in his Honda before his last year in school at SUNY Brockport, he has been all over the northeast, supplementing his bank account with farm work--working hard on a cheese farm in Corinth, Vermont. He helped bring in the hay, tossing forty pound bales twenty feet high (oh to be young and strong), cleared fields, delivered calves and had fun with his friends and meeting girls from Ireland and Sweden and other cool places. He did balk at inseminating the cows, but did get as far as getting the “goo” all over his hand. He dined in Boston, did hand stands on the sand dunes of Colorado and carried his nephew Nolan over rocky mountains. The homeboy found his wings, but he still thinks the Empire State is the best. Next stop, Europe.