Here's a funny story (& I have lots

). Growing up on the farm was great, like having two Dad's, Dad & Mom's Dad who was a mechanical engineer, M.D., D.O., Surgeon. "Doc" everyone simply called him. His wife, my Grandmother, was this tiny 4'11 ,98# lady who loved gardening. So Doc builds her a cart from a 1960 "Poplar Mechanics" issue.
He gets lots of 3/4" marine plywood, black iron pipe, fittings, braces, and wheels that I'm sure were for a motorcycle. It had a pipe handle and feet with flanges.
After many hours and who knows how much glue, screws, primer and paint it's finished. You could haul two wheelbarrows in it with room to spare.
Doc had to get Dad & me to help wheel it over for the presentation. Grandmother came out and her head was barely above the handle.
"What is it?" She asked. Doc said "It's your new garden cart I made! See (he said with a grunt as he lifted the handle) it even dumps!"
She pushed hard as she could and it didn't move. "The dump is where it needs to go".
We used it hauling stuff to the lake or to fix the well. We tried hauling wood but I'm sure that explains why we've all had hemorrhoids.