Junk Drawer Part II
In Days of Yore. . . .
You remember the era, Yore. (In one episode of Friends, Rachel is surreptitiously buying furniture from Pottery Barn, which Phoebe despises for its spiritless mass produced stuff, pretending that the pieces are antiques from a Flea Market. Excited, Phoebe asks Rachel what era the "antiques" are from. Rachel sheepishly answers, "Yore . . . . Days of Yore.")
In Days of Yore, when farms were fifty acres and farmers had fifty cows, chickens, pigs, a vegetable garden, each farm had at least two-three outbuildings, one shed devoted to junk and stuff. Stuff that could be used at some later date.
In Days of Yore, there were no Menards or Fleet Farm. The dry goods store could order some parts, but they were mightily expensive.
So if a piece pf equipment broke, it wasn't just tossed. It was saved in the "junk shed." All sorts of metal parts, tools, leather straps, metal barrels and wooden barrels and containers, every conceivable piece of rope or harness, boards, fencing, hoses, car parts, tires, feeders . . .
Before the dark shed was the stuff of murder, suspense and horror flicks, with sythes, bow saws, ten inch spikes dangling precariously from the rafters, and the odd hunting knife, ax and hatchet, it was the place, the Walmart, if you will, where the farmer would go to get the part or piece of metal that could be fashioned into a part, for his broken-down tractor. Or the piece he could use to repair the fencing, or the water pump, or the hay wagon.
Those days are long past. As are the days of fifty acres and fifty cows. Now it's thousands of acres and thousands of cows and pigs in massive feedlots. The "farmer" doesn't even live on the land he "farms." In Florida where I grew up, they've dropped the pretense. They're called "growers" there, not "farmers." But that's the topic for another blog.
Agribusiness. It's much "neater." No unsightly sheds or junk barns, or probably even junk drawers.
Oh, for the Days of Yore . . . .
You remember the era, Yore. (In one episode of Friends, Rachel is surreptitiously buying furniture from Pottery Barn, which Phoebe despises for its spiritless mass produced stuff, pretending that the pieces are antiques from a Flea Market. Excited, Phoebe asks Rachel what era the "antiques" are from. Rachel sheepishly answers, "Yore . . . . Days of Yore.")
In Days of Yore, when farms were fifty acres and farmers had fifty cows, chickens, pigs, a vegetable garden, each farm had at least two-three outbuildings, one shed devoted to junk and stuff. Stuff that could be used at some later date.
In Days of Yore, there were no Menards or Fleet Farm. The dry goods store could order some parts, but they were mightily expensive.
So if a piece pf equipment broke, it wasn't just tossed. It was saved in the "junk shed." All sorts of metal parts, tools, leather straps, metal barrels and wooden barrels and containers, every conceivable piece of rope or harness, boards, fencing, hoses, car parts, tires, feeders . . .
Before the dark shed was the stuff of murder, suspense and horror flicks, with sythes, bow saws, ten inch spikes dangling precariously from the rafters, and the odd hunting knife, ax and hatchet, it was the place, the Walmart, if you will, where the farmer would go to get the part or piece of metal that could be fashioned into a part, for his broken-down tractor. Or the piece he could use to repair the fencing, or the water pump, or the hay wagon.
Those days are long past. As are the days of fifty acres and fifty cows. Now it's thousands of acres and thousands of cows and pigs in massive feedlots. The "farmer" doesn't even live on the land he "farms." In Florida where I grew up, they've dropped the pretense. They're called "growers" there, not "farmers." But that's the topic for another blog.
Agribusiness. It's much "neater." No unsightly sheds or junk barns, or probably even junk drawers.
Oh, for the Days of Yore . . . .
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