My grandfather used to work in some sort of mill when he was young. Long before he had met my grandmother and started a family. He used to love to tell stories about his days working in there. He really had a great camaraderie with the workers in the mill, and he loved sharing their stories, some not always appropriate for my young ears. I am not entirely sure what he mined, but I know he used to talk about the end mill that he had to use. He still had a really old one stashed away in his house, and one day he decided to show me. I thought it looked like a drill bit, but he told me that they were used for different things. He said that they were able to do more than a drill bit too. My grandfather always loved telling my brother and I stories about when he was younger, and I really did enjoy hearing them. It has been a few years since he has passed away, and I really miss those stories now. It used to be that I would get annoyed at hearing some of the same stories over and over again, but now I miss even hearing those stories.