From the bottom to the top of the village

Despite the rain I wandered from the bottom of the village to the top to have a nice cuppa. As usual, the warm welcome made each rain drop worthwhile.

This time the conversation turned to Father. He lives in the UK, but we've met on many an occasion when he's visited. When he showed up last fall at a lunch in a surprise, it added greatly to my day. My daughter, my Syrian friend from Paris, and every other woman I know who has met him is entranced.

Why is he so interesting? 

The man will be 91 in August and is a brilliant conversationalist.  He is still doing complicated things with car designs that I don't understand, but his eyes sparkle when he talks about it.

When I asked about him, my friend talked about his frustration at not being able to exhibit at a special model train exhibition. He had problems with the remote, she explained. "You've never seen his steam trains?"

I've seen model train collections. At 16 as a cub reporter I did a story on then Celtics star Bill Russell's collection. When Bill's hands, which almost dwarfed a basketball, held those small engines and cars, I truly understood the word "relative". 

But back to Father. My friend led me upstairs and brought up photos of not just his steam trains, but his layout. He has a large yard with pools and huge rocks. The train runs all over the yard, across bridges, through stations, all in miniature, of course. "It goes in and out of his garage through a cat flap," my friend said.

Never, have I seen anything like it outside of a professional amusement park.

Father is quite a man. But he's more than that. He's a role model on keeping your mind active because of your passions. He's a role model on having passion for something regardless of age. And he's also just plain fun to know.