I don't know what it is about living in open spaces, but there seems to be some sort of tradition that involves leaving a big trash pile behind for future generations. I'm not talking about wood scraps, pipe and fencing materials. I'm talking about true trash.Trash that's no good for kids or animals. Trash that says, "I never planned to be here forever, and I don't care about the people who live here after we leave."
We've been cleaning up trash ever since we moved here Valentine's week. We've carted off loads of rotted wood (and enjoyed it in ceremonial celebrations of our move to the country), used magnets to pick up loads of nails and wire, even called on grandmothers to help us pick up broken glass and seemingly endless strands of various wire throughout the lower pasture area.
Yesterday evening, I took the Jeep to the "old pond" to start picking up some of the heavy stuff. The Jeep, you see, has a vital tool - a winch! Makes life SO much easier when it comes to finding things like, oh, buried wheels, large parts from farm implements, old rusted valves that are too heavy even for Mr. B to carry down to the growing scrap pile.
This morning, V helped me gather three garbage bags worth of glass bee bottles and a truck bed load stacked with random parts from refrigerators and cars. Though we couldn't load it due to weight, we did mange to pull a piano soundboard to the scrap metal heap as well.
Unfortunately, I'm pooped, and we need the truck bed for other goods later this week. So, it's off to the dump we go with this load. We've saved up a heap of scrap metal (into which the piano soundboard certainly will go) to be delivered to the appropriate recycling (ie. cash back) center as soon as we figure out how to get it into our trailer. (Need a winch in there, too!)
Oh, other chores like fence building and weed pulling continue, and unpacking the house, too.
Eventually we'll get to planting the garden Big Red helped me til...eventually.