Rustic Cyberpunk

I spent a few days, before the skies turned to Mars in my neck of the woods, catching up with a friend on the past few years.

This was my first such day since the Pandemic started.

I've been taking welding lessons from him to practice repairing things around the cabin and to build my wood stove.

There are copious bits and bobs, odds and ends, and any number of steel plates spread around the property in neatly ordered vertical stacks, sheltered by tarps. There's a dilapidated Disneyland vibe, albeit half-way through (dis)assembly. Neighbors and friends make the pilgrimage to this grotesque, yet oddly soothing, temple to get things fixed, paying in beer and favors. Nearly every mechanical hulk of consequence can be constructed here with just the spare parts.

While I have no aspirations to create a similarly wondrous arena, it would be handy to have a spare patch of land where experiments in mechanical convenience, or simply art, may be constructed without worrying about property values and prying eyes.

It was a wonderful experience.