1. I seem to have inherited his baby skin - I swear his first wrinkle appeared when he was in his 60s, so I shan't be needing botox anytime in the future.
And 2. He grew the best darned tomatoes in the world. Even now I can still taste the most perfect snack ever: slices of fresh, ruby red tomato on buttered Sao biscuits, with lashings of salt and pepper. Only slightly bettered by fresh white bread, buttered, and generously laden with slices of tomatoes, salt and pepper.
My husband and daughter aren't keen on tomatoes, probably because they never tasted my pop's. If they had, they too, like me, would be on the ever elusive hunt for the perfect tomato.
I reckon that when my vegie garden's in full swing I'll have found it. I'm going to hunt through every heirloom seed company's stock till I find the perfect beefstock tomato - and force my family to try a taste of heaven...