You know, this last week at the food mart, the kid bagging groceries at check-out showed me a picture of a lady in her garden. The heading of the post was something like remembering when everyone had to reuse tin foil and bacon grease. At the bottom some fake checker had posted that never happened. By the time I managed to get my food gathered up, the kids were ribbing me pretty good. It was all in fun, so we had a good laugh and I headed home. 

That evening back at the store I got to thinking about that old bucket of nails. To my recollection it’s been there in the back my whole life. When we’s kids’ paw would trade 1/2-pound used nails for a bottle of pop. Not the bent or mangled ones you had to straighten them up and scrape the rust off before you get your pop. You know thinking back, I don’t think paw ever charged any one for a used nail. I guess that was his way making sure us kids stayed out of trouble. One winter Susy tossed her ashes out the cooking stove before they cooled down and burned down her chicken house. Her husband Bill had just gotten drafted to go back to Germany. The town practically use that hole bucket of nails rebuilding her chicken coup. The next summer nails were easy picking where it burned down. 

When paw died, we slid the old bucket in the back corner. Once or twice a year I slide it over and sweep behind it. It’s just sitting there waiting to be tossed out. no one needs an old nail. Someday some fake checker is goanna say the world was only built with new nails. No one ever used bent nails, washed tinfoil or reused bacon grease to keep the eggs from sicken to you a new cast iron pan. 

All that been said, if you can straighten 1/2 pound of bent nails, without smashing your finger with the hammer at least once, I will Kiss Your A… 

The Old Man