My Dad, George, celebrated his ninety-third birthday today. He’s been a big influence throughout my life. He has often asked me where I learned to do the things we do. I proudly tell him he taught me. He doubts my words but it is very true. My dad was never an artist, nor did he weld and fabricate. He didn’t create fanciful sculptures. But he taught by example from an early age that anything I could imagine was possible if I worked at it hard and long enough. As a kid, I often watched him create a rudimentary plan on a scrap of paper, then break out his hammer, and saw and build a building, He could trowel cement and build anything he imagined. When I was young he decided we needed a swimming pool. We dug the excavation by hand with shovels and picks, built the forms and mixed the concrete in a small portable mixer. I fondly recall the giant toboggan run he fashioned from scrap lumber in our yard one winter. And there were countless other projects through the years. As Janis & I started our business after I left home, he would often help out, offering encouragement, advice and labour as he was able. We made many more great memories in those years as well. My dad has long since hung up his hammer and moves much slower these days but he’s still fiercely proud of what we do and loves to hear of my travels and see pictures of our projects. I hear from those around him that he often tells tall stories of our exploits. Happy Birthday, Dad!!
