My husband was a workaholic. This column from 1987 tells how he attempted to do everything, except sleep. During his night shirt at the canning company, he was found a time of two sleeping standing up–this is not an exageration.
For summer and fall, I lived as a single parent, which wasn’t easy either. Often I felt I was being pulled apart when I was needed on the farm knowing our children required at least one parent some of the time.
Anyway this is what I wrote about Bob during those hectic times.
Watching Bob work himself to death wasn’t easy to witness but no one could stop him from any of his work adventures.
Today, I’m missing him and wishing we had more time together. It was a good thing he did eventually slow down, finding time to enjoy more than work.
Until next time, that’s it from Sunnybook Farm.
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