countless seasons of labor
add up to auxiliary life
existential employment
at heave and at carry
of natural materials
congruous substances
man and his earthly environs
in congress enhancing
both each and the other
experience bettered by sweat
of keen toil and soil become
the more beautiful fruited
and flowering into the future
beyond the earned rustic
repose of the elegant barrow
retired in long slow organic
delay of decay into elements
all at once poignant and stately
Totally utilitarian . . .
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so much beauty to be found in the homeliest of utilitarian objects
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Great depth and description!
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thanks kindly
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I just found out the other day that my husband scrapped an old-fashioned clothes ringer found in our cellar. It had lain outside from when he’d found it and it took me back to days spent helping my mum hand wash and I’d be allowed to turn the mangle’s handle. I wasn’t going to do anything with it but I enjoyed its presence outside the cellar door. I’m raging with him. Tidying up the garden has its demerits. He has accumulated a few by this one action. He didn’t know I was attached to it was his reasoning. Bah! Not that I don’t appreciate him keeping the garden in order but I mean to say!
He doesn’t throw away his old wheelbarrows but turns them into something else to enjoy their rest. Might turn him into a plant pot when the time’s ripe!
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in my experience I’ve come to learn that there is he-stuff and she-stuff, and only he/she respectively may decide to discard their own
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I learned that after I threw out a pair of ‘loons’, the most ridiculous looking enormously flared trousers imaginable. But sentimentally reminiscent of his hippy days. I’m afraid the wringer must have been seen as neutral territory. I should have said I was attached to it. Or maybe he secretly knew and was extracting revenge for the loons disposal 28 years ago. 😉
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ringer?! wringer. Predictive text stop messing with my words you motherforklift.
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ha ha – it abuses us all
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