My husband hordes crap. Junk. Stuff that I’m dying to pile into the car and dump at the tip. Luckily for him I consider the shed a no-go zone (yes, a happy outcome is that the lawnmower is out of my reach) and hence his pile of “junk” continues to grow.
However, what seems like junk to the average punter is, in a farmer’s eyes, a treasure trove of potential. Just this week my husband regaled me with an exciting story about having the perfect sized o-ring for a job. An o-ring he’d been carrying around in his toolbox for 13 years…Please tell me somebody else out there has such riveting dinnertime conversations?!
Like father like son, this shot was taken at the family farm on the weekend, and that’s not even the tip of the iceberg. I must concede, it’s in the genes.