Mr. B was my Dad’s boss. That’s not a code name, it’s just what we called him. He looked an awful lot like my Dad too. When people see the pictures of Dad & Mr. B, they assume they are father & son. There is no blood relation, but he is very much like a grandfather to me. He just celebrated his 85th birthday and made me start thinking.
We always seemed to have a connection. It’s funny to hear my Mom talk about how she was scared of him when I was little. I guess he could be a bit of a bastard when he wanted to be. I never saw that side of Mr. B. He was just someone with whom I climbed all over and cuddled.
When I moved into my house a few years back (well before it was renamed IHOL) I had a housewarming party. Mr. & Mrs. B came, which made me so happy! He is getting up there in 
Mrs. B was quite cute. She pulled me aside to let me know that Mr. B was adamant about picking out a gift for me; that was her way of saying she didn’t like it, but had no choice. The wind chime was hand selected by him. I cherish that lovely wind chime in all it’s glorious gaudiness.
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