Good Grief Look At The Yard

This was my view out an upper window this afternoon, after T arrived home with his latest purchase, a trailer.

The thing I kept thinking as I looked out at this scene was, "How on earth did people of our demographic end up with a yard that looks like this?". We've got a 12-year-old pickup truck, a beat-up old trailer, a non-operable sports car, and a tractor parked in the front yard. Not to mention the umpteen rusty old tractor implements you can see there in the background, as well as the freestanding rain barrels and down the hill you see pallets of cinder blocks. Real classy.

Although when it comes to hiring contractors it seems to work to our advantage. We don't look like the typical rich people who buy farms and trick them out with big beautiful $100,000 barns and brand new tractors that never get used. I guess we look more like the typical working farmers around here, so we get reasonable quotes for work to be done.

Personally, I would be very happy for T to go back to work for a while so we could pay to get a big equipment barn built (we already know exactly where it would be sited and how big it would be). It wouldn't even have to be a fancy barn, just something big enough to fit all the farm equipment. But T would rather not work, and since neither would I, I can't fault him for that. And he acknowledges that we could legitimately use an equipment barn. But he wants to build it himself. Which is folly, it's not a one-man job, and he doesn't have any friends around here in a position to help. So my guess is that at least until T gets some business idea that he really wants to pursue (and I'm not holding my breath, although I suspect his ambition will get the best of him sometime within the next ten years) and starts generating some real income (or I get back to trading, and trading successfully, which I've officially put off for a few years until the baby is a bit older), we'll just dream about the barn, and I will have to live with all this stuff strewn all over the yard. Yeeehaw.