After my Grandpa and Uncle died, in my dad dead already, and me being the poor relation, I was able to go through the "home place" when the other vultures were picking it clean.
Lord I never saw such a bunch in I think they lusted for the squeal a pig left hanging in the air there.
It was in that I picked up in their hog barn a broken square nosed spade. No one wanted the thing, because I presume it was broken a few times by my hot headed uncle in his youth when cleaning barn.
These square nosed spades we all called trough spades, as they fit the ground feed trough perfectly to clean them out.
In any event, I took this thing home as a remembrance, along with a huge metal spoon covered in paint, hanging under what I presumed was my Grandpa's coat still in the barn.
This spade had been welded previously, and broken again. I guess that the way one got out of work was to break things, and when fixed, break them twice, so Grandpa would not fix them again as welding cost money.
So I took this gem home, that anyone else would have put into scrap, as most of the things scraped to the bone on my Grandpa and Uncle's place, and it was a real study in psychopathy in how people dealt with things, as some could not grab enough things, some could not burn enough things and some could not sell enough things, to make up for what was going on inside of them.
Me, I had something no one wanted, so I took it home and put a vice grip on it, and welded it "turkey shit" style as my neighbor used to say spot welding was on difficult metals.
I like welding with arc welders and rods. I actually can weld just about anything, including cast. I just fire it up and puddle it to where things fuse at times, and things tend to stick together, unless a neighbor is over doing chores and busts my 4 tine fork and never tells me about it.
Is ok I broke the fork handle in it trying to straighten a panel.
So where was I?
Yes I welded up this fork, and interesting my dad had an old spade that the handle just broke in that was probably 50 years old, so I decided to stick that old handle in my spade, and after scraping off the old rotten wood, I used a draw knife to fit it, and I had this really cool one of a kind spade.
Thing is with the short handle it is highly compact, so I do not overdo on digging. I sharpened it so it honestly in a pinch would be a hell of a defensive weapon as was stated on All's Quiet on the Western Front..........authorities never think an old spade is anything.
It is though what I used to load 16 wheel barrels of compost to my garden, and every scoop I kept thinking how nice it would be to have a tractor with a loader, but as the conglomerates voided America of all it's old tractors and collectors took the rest, so this world would be filled with computerized tractors which need to be maintained draining people's bank accounts, the net result is I get to work like the good old days and rich people get to be...........well the rich get to have liesure time to sin more and plot to make poor people more miserable.
I do really like my spade though. I like things that people deem have no value, as I was such a product all of my life. I have a vast collection of things I have fixed and I do like fixing things, as long as they are not things with grease and oil, as I did enough of that as a child and learned there is nothing peaceful about fixing cars or equipment. It seems to always fight a person while other things yield to will.
That is the story of my crappy little shovel though. My horses were in my back pocket as I shoveled wondering what I was up to, and I even had a doeling trying to get run over by a wheel barrel as I was such a wonderful attraction.
Is about enough of shoveling sh*t stories I suppose. I have a tile spade too with a broken little handle. Spades just seem to behave better with little broken handles in them.
I do know though I receive more pleasure in a broken shovel than the rich do in all their wealth.
nuff said
agtG
