I’m a hoarder. It’s true. I’ve been this way since I was little. We went to a lot of fairs when I was young, like every summer weekend, so I acquired lots of carnival crap that would disintegrate under very little pressure, but I’d keep my foam walking lizards and rubber jewelry for as long as they were recognizable. Two or three times in my life I’ve had the time and energy to purge and I was depressed for weeks after, just thinking about all the perfectly good small squares of construction paper I threw away. Some time this summer I really need to do something about the grocery bags, magazines, and “important” papers that really just need to be thrown away. What I really need is someone to force me to do it, but my husband is just as bad as me.
He has more t-shirts than you can find in the Hanes aisle at Wal-Mart, yet only wears five of them. Technically more, but one is a plain gray Hanes t-shirt that he owns four of, but I can’t tell the difference until they get a certain farm stain, and right now they are too new. He also seems to be a hoarder of empty oil jugs. For a normal person, that would mean a few jugs around the garage, but there are lots of motors and engines around this place, so that means we have jugs of every shape, size, and color strewn across our garage. Last, but not least, something I’ve seen many men do, especially on a farm - he is a hoarder of tires.
There are tire piles all over the place around here, all sizes. There’s a stack of great big tires from one of the trucks blocking my parking spot right now. There is a giant pile of smaller tires by the garden, cast offs from all the trailers and cars. Also, if you go for a walk, you could find random tires near tree or fence lines, exactly where they had been changed. I just don’t understand where these tires come from. None of them are from my car. I take it in for new tires, say goodbye to the old ones, and never see them again.
Not only does he pile up every tire that he finds, he also borrows tires. I’ve overheard phone calls with his dad as he has asked him, “Where’s this whatcha-ma-call-it?” and “Are the tires pretty good?” “I need to borrow them for a few hours to move this load of tires to another place on the farm.” You never catch me calling someone to borrow tires. I can imagine the conversation.
“Hey Teri, what size tires do you have?”
“How am I supposed to know that?” would be her response.
“Check the tire wall.”
“Anyway, if they are 205/55R16, can I borrow one? My driver’s side rear tire is bald, and I need to run to St. Louis. I’ll bring it right back.”
“Call Grotjan’s fool.” Click.
In case you are reading this from a location 30 miles or more away, Grotjan’s is the tire place.
Also, those borrowed tires never get returned. They end up flat and added to the pile.
My husband has been looking up other uses for these tires at least, or that’s what I thought. In Ag Talk or Farm Show, two of his daily reads, it mentioned making water tanks out of old tires, which he’s already done. He is also planning to make a sandbox for our son out of one. Then I realized these ideas were not minimizing our tire piles. He was getting these tires from somewhere else, but he added, “But they were free.”
So I need to come up with an idea to get rid of these tires or make a use for them. I could start a tire museum. There’s a museum for everything else in Missouri, dolls, hair, dogs, why not tires?
I should also try Pinterest. There’s probably a tire house that I could build and then create my own office away from the house. Actually, my husband informed me that there is such a thing after he proofread this. I just need to read Farm Show more often. For right now, I”ll just take an inventory, so let me know if you need any old balding tires. I’m sure I’ll have exactly what you need.