" I know that, sir," she said standing upright trying to look as grown up as possible."I know you do, Charlene," he chuckled. "And you don't have to c...ll me sir. I work for a living." Mr. Miller will do just fine," Patricia told her daughter reaching out cut off his protest by patting his hand. Realizing this was a family matter he choked back what he was going to say as she squeezed his hand in thanks. "You did very well, Charlene. You can go finish you homework now or does Mr. Miller need to. They were all Uncle Sam’s. Errol never used them. He had a collection of ancient hand tools that was passed down from generation to generation, and he insisted that was how things should be made. I thought he was being a little short-sighted, but you sure couldn’t question his skill or the quality of his product. Every joint, every drawer, every cabinet door was perfectly fitted. Every item of furniture he turned out would become someone’s treasured heirloom.I began my lute lessons the morning. More

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