We met an elderly woman on our drive from Fairbanks. She told us about her deceased husband. He wanted fancy cars, but could only afford wrecks. It was the art of restoration that he played out in his head.
But he never got around to do any restoration. Through their forty odd years of marriage the cars piled up in the woods behind the house. They detoriated in the rain, in the snow. Then he got cancer. It all went very quick.