Jack really did have nine lives. My dad actually seemed to get younger as he got older. The beach ball was colourful, just like him - playful all his life.

 On his 100th birthday we threw him a party, and as he leaned over to blow out the candles he said "I'm going to die... but I don't know what colour!" 

Jack was on the road again, and sometimes we'd just have to turn a blind eye and let him go. As far as as he was concerned, his wheels were as big as theirs, and he was on a mission - to the store for ice cream! As a joke I drew a skull and crossbones on his flag to let people know he was dangerous - he liked it, so it stayed.

My dad was still playful well into his 90s - no one could stop Jack! This is just a small example of his antics. Another time, while driving his tractor, he ended up in the ditch - laughing uproariously. We couldn't help but laugh along with him.

If you look closely, you'll see a nail sticking out of the half-frozen railway tie he's sawing, an incredibly dangerous thing to do especially without a saw-guard in place. Dad was so confident that nothing would go wrong... and luckily it didn't!
  The saw he made music with was fine as long as the bow slid down the flat side.

   We were squashed into the family car, like scrap metal into a cube.
   I grew up with the smell of gas and oil. As a young girl I remember watching my dad syphon gas out of scrap cars and thought this was a novel idea, until I tried it myself!!!!  Now I know...gas smells better than it tastes.