Jilda and I played a festival several years ago. The venue used an old farm in Tennessee. It wasn't far from Virginia. Or North Carolina. It was a beautiful place.
The music was good, and several friends had also agreed to play. It was like a vacay.
One of the reasons I loved this festival was that the farm was a working farm. There were tractors, implements, and other tools everywhere. Some of the equipment was still in use, but there were other things that had done its work long ago. Instead of tossing the old stuff, the owners left it on the farm. It added ambiance to the festival.
I have a ton of pictures from that weekend, but the one below reminds me of something from my childhood. The well behind my great-grandmother's house had a pump exactly like the one below. Through the years I pumped that old handle until my arms hurt. The water came from deep within the earth. It was cold and tasted like no water I had before, Or since.
There are old things down at our barn. A friend who owns an antique booth asked if we'd like to part with the old stuff. Jilda and I smiled and shook our heads no in stereo.
We both like old stuff.
The music was good, and several friends had also agreed to play. It was like a vacay.
One of the reasons I loved this festival was that the farm was a working farm. There were tractors, implements, and other tools everywhere. Some of the equipment was still in use, but there were other things that had done its work long ago. Instead of tossing the old stuff, the owners left it on the farm. It added ambiance to the festival.
I have a ton of pictures from that weekend, but the one below reminds me of something from my childhood. The well behind my great-grandmother's house had a pump exactly like the one below. Through the years I pumped that old handle until my arms hurt. The water came from deep within the earth. It was cold and tasted like no water I had before, Or since.
There are old things down at our barn. A friend who owns an antique booth asked if we'd like to part with the old stuff. Jilda and I smiled and shook our heads no in stereo.
We both like old stuff.
Oh I love this photo as it reminds me of the old pump that was at the cemetery where my dad, and now, my mom are resting. It didn’t look as nice as yours, it was rusty and the water was...icky but I loved pumping it to get water for the flowers. It’s gone now and I wish it wasn’t.
ReplyDeleteHooray for old stuff. I am glad that you and Jilda are of one mind on this.
ReplyDeleteOld stuff is cool, sometimes it reminds us how good we have it today, sometimes it reminds us of what we are missing...like cool well water.
ReplyDeleteBilgi sahibi oldum teşekkür ederim
ReplyDeleteI love to see strong symbols of my past. The hand pump I remember well, I even visited friends in Missouri that had one inside at the kitchen sink.
ReplyDeleteBut this one out doors with the galvanized bucket and 'splash' rock is tops! good one!
We often had to pump our water. I don't miss it.
ReplyDeleteI agree with What Joey said ↑
ReplyDeleteLisa
We have one of those old hand pump in the shed. We have used it in the past to prime the water when the sand point was dug up in the spring to clean it but haven't used it since we have a deep well. When I was a kid, we used a crank to lower the bucket in the well and cranked up the bucket and it was a lot of fun for us to fetch water from our well.
ReplyDeleteHugs, Julia
My in-laws had a pump on the farm like that but they also had running water! Their property had tons of springs and their water was so good tasting. I miss that. Love your pic! Old things are the best! (I'll keep telling myself that! ha!)
ReplyDeleteI AM old stuff!!
ReplyDelete