I’m sure I’ve mentioned “The Bus” on this site more than once. It’s my family’s “cabin”. It’s a 1960s bus that broke down in the middle of the state, so we pushed it into the woods and turned it into a refuge (in that only refugees would want to sleep in it).
I’ve spent some serious time there. Thanksgivings, birthdays, hunting trips, fishing trips… eventually though, because much of my family is so sad (my brother used to live there and my cousins would go there for extended vacations), The Bus became dilapidated from misuse and neglect. Because no one really wants it, everyone gave it to my younger brother who decided to take it down.
So this week, we disassembled it (by “we” I mean “my mom and my younger brother”; I helped out for a serious 90 minutes); the junk has been junked, the reusable stuff has been reused, and the metal has been scrapped.
On a side-note (and more to the point of why I hate lawyers), we couldn’t have The Bus – which has been sitting in this spot since 1967 – just towed out because no one has a title. The State needs a title from a passenger bus that doesn’t work and has been sitting in the same place for almost 50 years because they have to make sure sure no one else has a claim to it. So we hired a guy with a torch and a flat-bed.
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