My neighbor's enthusiasm for my projects would best be described as thinly veiled disdain. They feel I have some sort of junkyard and damn right! My junkyard! A suburban junkyard of unlimited potential for the deep pocketed optimist! Perhaps it looks hastily thrown together, but this is the absolute height of organization. The Model A frame and the welding table sit just outside the garage door swingline and, since everything rolls, my work area is instantly reconfigurable for any circumstance. Even my tomato plant whiskey barrel is on wheels to take full advantage of the sun without restricting driveway access. These are times of great abundance - where every average joe can have a junkyard of their own.
