And it's been a somewhat rusty trip.

You see, after doing some renovations around the barn at home, I've accumulated a pile of scrap metal, and was considering bringing in a dumpster to deal with it.

And in that 'one thing leads to another' scenario, I thought I'd top off the dumpster with scrap metal that's been laying around for eons.

Now when it comes to The Sidekick, just thinking about delving into the old scrap pile is like waving a 'go fetch' ball in front of a puppy. I tell ya, if she had a tail, it'd be wagging.

For the most part, that scrap pile pre-dates me on the farm. I'm sure there are bits and pieces of old farm equipment buried in that rust heap that would probably interest an archeologist in search of lost civilizations.

Even during my 50-plus years, I've seen lots of things that have found their way into the pile.

Thus the trip down memory lane.

Last Sunday was the beginning of it all. You see, The Sidekick had an ambition attack. It happens now and then, and can only be viewed as scary. We had cleaned up the fallen branches and dumped them in the brush pile, which entailed going past the scrap pile.

The Sidekick was suddenly bitten by the bug.

"Let's start on the scrap pile," she said, nostrils flaring with anticipation, "That way, when the dumpster finally arrives, it'll be ready."

I reluctantly agreed. The idea was to pile the old scrap on the concrete beside the barn and when the bin was dropped off, load it with the tractor loader. So we started picking away at it.

The worst part was the old rolls of fence wire.

I swear, there was enough rusty wire fence to reach to the moon and back-- and it was all tangled together like a huge ball of steel wool.

As we worked our way into the pile, bit by bit I 'discovered' some old memories.

There were dozens of old ploughshares to be found, chronicling the progression of ploughs the Brown family has used over the past century. There were parts from old horse-drawn walking ploughs, the old ace-bottom wheel ploughs and even ploughshares off the wide-bottom ploughs used by my dad and I-- all tangled in the wire.

I discovered parts from old farm equipment from the '30s, '40s right up to the '90s, which were replaced and then tossed into the scrap pile.

Rusted water troughs, old water pipe, a flattened horse-drawn dump rake and a number of bent steel wheels were among those things that emerged as we picked and pulled away at the pile.

I even found two perfect cast-iron tractor seats which are now considered collectors items.

The discoveries carried on, with the pile on growing bit by bit. Excited by it all, The Sidekick even dragged me out one night this past week to work on the scrap after supper, until it was too dark to see what we were sorting. I must admit, seeing that pile shrink has been quite satisfying.

It's been one of those jobs that's needed to be done for decade now. When the time comes, and the bin finally arrives, it will be the topping on the cake to see it all loaded and gone.

Of course, I do have one reservation about finishing cleaning up the scrap pile. I'm just a little nervous about what The Sidekick will target as 'our' next clean-up project.