My parents’ first house was built in the 1920s. As bought in 1949, it wasn’t all that old at the time. However, it had a lot of out-of-date features. They remodeled the first and second floors inside and out, doing the work themselves and with my carpenter uncle. It was plain but solid.
There wasn’t much done with the basement … and that was fine with my father. Except for changing from oil heat to gas (the previous owner had changed from coal to oil), the floors and walls remained bare concrete.
It was my father’s domain. He had his table saw and old zinc stationary tubs to clean had collected from flea markets (“junque”); and also to bathe our dog, and occasionally a muddy kid. The area was usually messy, but he made it a “neat mess” every so often.
There was an old gas stove to can vegetables and fruits in Mason jars. He once tried to make apple cider with some neighbors — but it came out vinegar. He also skinned rabbits and processed chickens and ducks (start to finish).
I DO go on … Finally, my point relative to your comment: He saved small baby food jars to store screws, bolts, nuts, screws, nuts, nails, and various small pieces of hardware. He screwed the lids to an overhead wooden support beam and then fastened the jars up there out of the way. I thought that was so cool.
He was a child of the Great Depression, and a quintessential PLUGGER.
Geez, how do write these clever limericks EVERY DAY. If you collect them (as you should), you must have several thick volumes by now. Don’t let disappear into the cyber-void.
One of my young childhood friends jumped off his garage roof holding an umbrella. He had a very brief moment of exhilaration … before he sprained an ankle.
Your stream of consciousness is at flood stage today!