I just finished up a day of granddaughter duty, it's almost bedtime for Papa. I usually only feel old in the mornings.
My Granddad had a barn built into a hill, the cellar was drive in if it wasn't too wet. Dairy cows on the floor above and a hay loft above that. He used to keep the seasonal stuff in the cellar. Iron or steel would rust like hell, but all that stuff would still turn or move like it was supposed to. Making stuff that will keep working in the real world is a bitch. I've always admired how things were made when the material of choice for square footage or structure was wood, metal was just for hardware. Now they know how to make things, you've got to replace them every ten years or less.