My father was a good man. He had his things just like everyone else, but he took care of his family. When we were little my parents bought some property in Cooperstown, NY. This was were we spent many vacations. A lot of my friends went to like islands and warm places with clear oceans and sand. We went camping in Cooperstown, NY and pooped in the woods. It didn’t bother me to much. We always had fun. Unless my dad was showing us the local school and asking us what we thought about our new schools, that wasn’t a fun part.

Usually we had camp fires and cooked and played cards, and read books. I remember my brother John (the one I like) making shadow puppets at night and we would all crack up. There was a barn and my parents rented it out to a man who always kept his rescued animals in there. There were always random animals there. Horses, pigs, goats, cows, a German Shepard that bit my hand once cause I tried to move his food bowl. . Sometimes there would be kittens and we would chase them around. We always went for a long weekend and that was always enough.

My dad’s dream though was to build up that farm and turn it into a working farm. When he retired and sold the house in Greenwich him and my mom built a house up there. Right where we used to camp. They lived there for 15  years  and my dad had lots of cows, pigs and his dogs.

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