Sunday, July 31, 2011

There's Gotta be a Pony in Here Somewhere!

For the past week and some, I've been demolishing a pile of...everything metal ever made, I think. The spot was once the work pile of a welder who lived here long ago; apparently a welder who believed that nothing should EVER be thrown away (and I thought I'd met the queens and kings of that behavior!).

There are bike parts, iron bars, gears for something very big (maybe the truck that has literally become part of the tree), stop signs, gas cans, tent poles, a hand grain grinder, fan parts, hot water heaters, fencing, boat engine covers, an old axe, car hood decor, table tops, lawn chair frames, the handles from an old plow, tire jack stands, ancient oil canisters, a dinghy anchor, a lobster trap, VW hubcaps and a bunch of things I have no idea what they might have been ...

The pile is/was under a beautiful madrone tree right next to Elijah's little casita and when I saw it last year, I was itching to get into it, but frankly, it was pretty daunting. Most of it was buried under leaves long matted back to pure compost...and the rest stuck out in purely Junk Pile Art fashion. This year I decided to just wade in and start. I'd stop when I wanted to.  There is still a lot left but my goal was to reach the tree...and except for a few things too heavy for me to move, I got there!

 Yes, that is the bumper of this huge truck, grown into the tree. The pile of junk to the side is now in the BIG pile...and that's where, on the last lift, I found the treasure!

There is an old joke my Dad used to tell us...I don't know if it was for the moral, because all I really remembered the joke for was that it was the first (and first of very few times) my Dad used a cuss word in anything he said to me. The main part is a little boy, high atop a pile of manure (this was my Dad's version) who's father told him if he wanted a pony, he had to know about the hard part. The boy enthusiastically mucked the stable pile out as his father watched. Near the end he asked if the boy was getting tired. The boy grinned and said, No, Dad! With all this shit, there's gotta be a pony in here somewhere!

I have to believe my own Dad was laughing when, this morning, I came to a stopping point, feeling like I'd done about what I'd set out to do, when...there was the PONY!!!! Poor boy had lost a leg and been put out to pasture, but he's now happily ensconced on his own merry-go-round. Welcome home , little pony!

Have a satisfied with your manure piles Sunday! Do something for safety.


  1. Shhhhhhh If that pony is salvageable
    chances are good there is a collector market for him.

  2. Nah...sadly, he's made of petroleum based materials ;) But we are going to give him a bath and paint him up!

  3. That is hysterical! Love this story! Your dad was probably willing you to attack that pile because he knew he could speak to you from it. And how!

  4. I'd like to think your version is correct, Deb! He's a pretty loud voice in my life.

  5. Love this story, too. So happy you're going to clean and paint it. I can only imagine your delight!