The end of a picnicking era

At times, my dad has been rumored to be called "the cheapest man in America". A friend of his used to send him email forwards about cheapskates.  I would walk into his office to see him shaking, with tears running down his face as he was laughing so hard he would start crying.  Perhaps identifying with them more than he'd care to admit.

More than 4 years ago in 2006, I blogged about his frugality with the family's name sign on the front of the garage.  Dad simply flipping over the former owner's sign to paint MAUSS on the back.  Then hung it back up on the garage.

In 2010, I give you the remnants of our picnic tables.  When Mom and Dad bought the house in 1981, the tables had been with the Fowlers (the previous owners) for a dozen years or more.  Dad made sure they were part of the deal when they bought the house.

Now more than 40 years old, painted and stripped and repainted year after year.  And Dad finally broke down and asked Mike to make some new tables for the house.

The son made the tables, and the son-in-law got  the opportunity to build a big bonfire on the beach with the old ones.  The end of an era.



Thomas loved watching the flames and listening to the crackling.


So we toasted the toasty remains of the tables, burned down to ash. 


...and it was good.