SquirrelsTools
Well-known member
So, I'm trying to post more. There's a lot of backstory/context here. Feel free to skip to the images. Or not at all haha.
When I do the things I do, I generally don't talk an awful lot about them. My grandfather always told me that a man's work speaks for itself, and a person who's busy bragging never learns anything or gets anything done. My lovely girlfriend has argued me around to making this post. It's okay to skip it. All I did here was some stuff anyone else could do.
Now, I posted a short time ago that I needed another compressor. I was looking to trade for it. I have one already, but another would be nice.
(Sidenote, I don't know why everyone thinks trading is so awful. I dislike money and what it does to folks. Never had any growing up. Asking to trade doesn't mean I don't have funds or I'm looking to cheat someone, just that I don't like exchanging an imaginary marker for a physical good or service.)
Someone took me up on that offer locally, asked for a porch drop off, and promptly complained about the agreed upon trade. Tried to convince me that a 20gal craftsman compressor sitting in a yard was worth a grand. I don't trade what I can't afford to lose, so I'm not upset. I let them keep the stuff and came home. Told my girlfriend (much to her surprise) that we have one already really.
A while back I went to an elderly lady's family farm auction. I helped out where I could (because that's what you do) and she called me a few days back because I left a table by accident. She said they were bulldozing the (1920s) barn and there were a few things left.
I went there and I'll tell ya. A mud floored tractor shed is a kind description. I poked around a bit and BURIED in the mud 4 inches deep was this.
.
Now I wasn't planning on recording this. So this was the picture I sent her from our garage. She called me crazy haha. But, with a little elbow grease, swearing and mild soap:
Now, I spent a great deal of my life growing up and living in rural Appalachia. I'm an indigenous (Eastern Band) Cherokee, but I was raised as a hillbilly. I keep trying to tell my girlfriend the difference between a redneck and a hillbilly. Rednecks have farms, ranches, nice trucks. You learn a couple phrases to become a hillbilly. They're what you live by.
Work hard
Be polite
Make do
Sometimes those are all you've got. So I set about making do. More pictures to follow. Less talking I promise.
I'll post the rest as a reply to this. Not much to say really. She runs now. Holds pressure. Had to make a filter stack cause it was missing one.
(If you use those green scrub pads a bunch and run em through the wash, they make good filter material. As long as you wrap em in squirrel screen they do real well. I used a plastic baby food container cause I had one. Beer can works well too. Rubber gasket and flex seal to keep the thread end airtight. Used to do it with a coffee can to an old Farmall to keep chaff out.)
Made a switched cord cause I could really. Little rewire for a ground too.
When I do the things I do, I generally don't talk an awful lot about them. My grandfather always told me that a man's work speaks for itself, and a person who's busy bragging never learns anything or gets anything done. My lovely girlfriend has argued me around to making this post. It's okay to skip it. All I did here was some stuff anyone else could do.
Now, I posted a short time ago that I needed another compressor. I was looking to trade for it. I have one already, but another would be nice.
(Sidenote, I don't know why everyone thinks trading is so awful. I dislike money and what it does to folks. Never had any growing up. Asking to trade doesn't mean I don't have funds or I'm looking to cheat someone, just that I don't like exchanging an imaginary marker for a physical good or service.)
Someone took me up on that offer locally, asked for a porch drop off, and promptly complained about the agreed upon trade. Tried to convince me that a 20gal craftsman compressor sitting in a yard was worth a grand. I don't trade what I can't afford to lose, so I'm not upset. I let them keep the stuff and came home. Told my girlfriend (much to her surprise) that we have one already really.
A while back I went to an elderly lady's family farm auction. I helped out where I could (because that's what you do) and she called me a few days back because I left a table by accident. She said they were bulldozing the (1920s) barn and there were a few things left.
I went there and I'll tell ya. A mud floored tractor shed is a kind description. I poked around a bit and BURIED in the mud 4 inches deep was this.
.
Now I wasn't planning on recording this. So this was the picture I sent her from our garage. She called me crazy haha. But, with a little elbow grease, swearing and mild soap:Now, I spent a great deal of my life growing up and living in rural Appalachia. I'm an indigenous (Eastern Band) Cherokee, but I was raised as a hillbilly. I keep trying to tell my girlfriend the difference between a redneck and a hillbilly. Rednecks have farms, ranches, nice trucks. You learn a couple phrases to become a hillbilly. They're what you live by.
Work hard
Be polite
Make do
Sometimes those are all you've got. So I set about making do. More pictures to follow. Less talking I promise.
I'll post the rest as a reply to this. Not much to say really. She runs now. Holds pressure. Had to make a filter stack cause it was missing one.
(If you use those green scrub pads a bunch and run em through the wash, they make good filter material. As long as you wrap em in squirrel screen they do real well. I used a plastic baby food container cause I had one. Beer can works well too. Rubber gasket and flex seal to keep the thread end airtight. Used to do it with a coffee can to an old Farmall to keep chaff out.)
Made a switched cord cause I could really. Little rewire for a ground too.
