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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Paternal Grandfather Aaron Harris... Lovely bones long since disintegrated into dustbin of genealogical history, if still alive would rank as oldest person clocking another one incremental increase asper in chronological number anniversary of his birth occurring within July year unknown, but within latter decades nineteenth century obviously conceived nine months prior perhaps after raucous Thanksgiving feast, where biological exuberance induced natural throbs activating indomitable rutting boisterous merriment. Nary handy dandy scant blues clue known about biography of aforementioned long departed grandpa only smidgen smudged details recalled vague nebulous memories, these predicated upon his every now and again visits, oft times after he relocated to Florida sporting tanned leathery toughened crocodile hide predictably, invariably, delicately donning name brand signature wrist watch, (albeit analog) affixed loosely dangling from his well weathered lobster like bony south claw, this singularly enigmatic eye catching jewelry captivating, fascinating, intriguing glittering name brand trademark timepiece affecting myself and siblings, especially youngest asserting, contesting, vouchsafing..., who would occupy coveted seat closest to simple mechanical contraption. After supper, he would regale us three Harris grandchildren (offspring begat in part courtesy his favorite native son named Boyce thee father to yours truly) illustrating multifarious adept skill folding sheets of outdated newspapers creating cut out dolls strung together, and/or the knack whereby with few brisk (i.e. Jewish version of origami), he quickly styled boats, chairs, hats none of which survived our rambunctious severe tests of durability, nor could any of us kids reproduce with any remote success, those deceptively seemingly easy to craft paper dolls linkedin with joined hands.
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