This is my Dad. Back in the eighties. Showing my son how to make bread. Way back then he was grinding his own wheat berries. I remember. Years later . I gave him a bread machine for Father's Day. The following year he gave it back to me for Mother's Day. Unopened. With note that read what's the point ? He always used to always give me a loaf of his great Sourdough. And he had a way of saying things. (the same guy who used to say "...looking for sympathy?...well go get the dictionary, you'll find it somewhere between shit and syphilis...")
Any way, I remember him as a bread maker, a gardener, a fisherman and just a loyal, honest hardworking guy. Who loved life and family.
And the man who danced with the Old Sea.
Not a bad way to be remembered really.