Friday, September 07, 2007

Silo, Pt. 1

On Monday, an Amish father and son showed up here interested in buying a silo. Being generally interested in selling things I no longer use, I said, "YES!" I had hoped they would want the bigger silo, but they only wanted the smaller one. They are VERY likable people, open, honest, hardworking, friendly. They showed up on Tuesday with one more adult and three more young men. They had several different people chauffering them around in one-ton diesel pickups with heavy duty trailers for carting the silo up to Lebanon where they live. They had an ancient scaffolding with them that they rigged inside the silo. Of course, they weren't interested in the unloader because they have their own "Armstrong" unloaders. I asked if they minded having their pictures taken, and they said they did, so I tried not to get them in the photos, which is really too bad because they were so interesting.
BONG! goes the roof.
Sorry about that, kid. You popped up just when I hit the shutter.
YOUK! They would yank the stave apart after removing the hoops, and toss the staves down inot a pile of hay.
Not the same picture. Really.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

OK this seems very cool to me. I mean how often does anyone get to sell a silo? So the next question is, what is a silo worth??? I have no idea. So, Tom, how much is this silo worth.?
PS I love the photo op.

Dad said...

Claire, silos aren't worth much. Like standing hay, the entire value is in the labor and capital required to put it where it's useful. Roughly, it took them 12 man-days to take it down and move it. Figure another 12 man-days to put it up. Add in the trucking.

Anyway, I just advertised the other silo for $900, hoping someone will bite. The truth is that I want the space where the silo is, and I'd give it away to someone who would haul it out of here.

Dad said...

The elder Amish fellow showed up here today looking for something they'd lost or left behind. Again, he was chauffered by a non-Amish driving a $45,000 heavy-duty pickup. Where the hell are the horses and buggies? And what kind of "way of life" is this where you eschew modern contraptions unless you can con somebody into giving you a ride? I didn't say anything, but next time I see him, I'm asking, "Where are the frickin' horses?"

Dad said...

And after you've been driven somewhere a few times in a modern luxurious pickup, how do you go back to the horses anyway? I mean, if he'd come here in his horse and buggy it would have taken several times as long, and he'd get up the driveway and then he'd have to convince his horse to turn the buggy around so they could leave, and he'd have to be thinking, "Christ, this is slower than hell. I'll never get that silo up."