I grew up in an isolated valley, and one of the things I wanted most was transportation out of there. Nature is great, but I wanted a friend that didn't have fur, scales, feathers, or a shell.The next-door-neighbors were "Summer People", meaning they came to garden in nice weather. They were "Old Country" (Europeans), and because of them I have the idea that all Europeans must keep everything they've ever owned. Instead of throwing things away, they had stages of storage. Good stuff in the house, okay stuff in the barn, junk hidden in a clearing amongst the pine trees.
I'd really like to make excuses about plundering their junk, but I mean really, did they actually expect me to leave their unsupervised stuff alone? The fact that many of the rusty old farm tools had wheels on them made them very attractive to me. I had endless time to clean and oil them into some level of functionality. I think it's probably a good thing I didn't know how to make a motor or I would've driven out of the glen without looking back.
My creations didn't get me out of the valley, but I had fun making them. I also enjoyed decorating them with pine cones and flowers while I waited for my fairy godmother to turn one of them into a carriage to take me to the ball.
