What do you get when you cross a daffodil with a John Deere tractor?

There are moments occasionally in my day when - I won't go so far as to say I enjoy my job - but I am mildly entertained.

At 8:30 this morning I was searching for a photo of some daffodils for a card that I am creating.

As I am fundamentally lacking in any sort of permanent store of design skills (my brain instead collecting thoughts on food and how much I dislike the majority of people I interact with during my day rather than actually learning as I have desperately, in vain, been trying to coach it to), I regularly resort to tracing elements of photographs in order to create my hacked patchwork imagery.

I've decided to instead see myself as an expert in adhesion and illusion rather than carrying the burden of the title 'web designer'. Instead I tirelessly sift through the majority of Photoshop's layer styles, functions and filters (yes, I even once found a use for the Conte Crayon texture but I'm pleased to say that I've, to date, not touched the 'stain glass' effect, but never say never) in order to hide the frankenstein's monster that lies beneath the majority of my artwork.

So Google's image searching tool and me really are quite close these days. If it assumed some sort of human form (which is not something I'd like to dwell too much time thinking about) then I'd probably take it out for a coffee, maybe even a pint, and that's not something I make a habit of with business acquaintances.

Today, in my relentless searching for the perfect daffodils with which I will form the basis for my hybrid imagery, I discovered a page that I would not otherwise have visited. The web really is a playground for the bored and uninspired, in the most unlikliest of places.

I doubt that you have previously visited http://www.retiredtractors.com/Daffodils.html.

If you haven't, you won't have heard the dulcet tones of the piano introduction on "strolling through the park" (I haven't got any further than the introduction so I don't know what lies beyond, maybe a string quartet, maybe vocal harmonies, maybe an accordion, I might treat myself to a further burst at lunchtime).

Google did well, there is indeed a picture of daffodils on the aptly named page. The same image of daffodils is also featured with a John Deere tractor acting as a backdrop (I'm guessing that the daffodils are probably more of an accessory and the focus is actually on the tractor, if the name of the website is anything to go by).

This website struck a chord with me. Not because of its misguided but innocent use of the most offensive font available, the kryptonite of the web design world (comic sans) nor its disturbing animated leprechaun gif nor its racy ginger female assistant. But because someone was creating a website for fun, because they enjoy it.

This person clearly has an unquestionable devotion to retired tractors. So much so they designed, developed and maintain an entire website focused purely on this specific subject.

It reminded me that there are many people that adore the web out there. That tinker with html and play around with CSS just for fun.

It made me a little sad as I'm not one of these, but warm inside that their are budding web designers all over the world, with varying degrees of talent but the same dedication and devotion to providing a service, publishing their loves, helping other people just because.

When I was younger, in the days where clip art was flourishing and actually deemed more than acceptable to feature in just about every multimedia product, where word art was to be marveled, where dtp was seeping into the homes and computers of budding young designers all over the country, I made tape covers for all of my copied cassettes.

We were one of the few people I knew to have a scanner AND an internet connection (although we seem to have been the last people in the UK to acquire broadband, my dad safely weighing up and reviewing every single option, discussing, double checking, and having a good think before committing himself to a 12 month contract). I was relentless in my pursuit to cover every video and tape with a MiniWebStress crafted label.

And I did it because I enjoyed it.

That's, basically, why I went to Uni and studied multimedia. Then something went wrong.

Maybe it was finding out that clip art was no longer deemed acceptable in the multimedia circles I began to mix within (I remember mocking one lecturer for his use of one specific character to illustrate his powerpoints. People can be so cruel). Maybe it was the usability, aesthetic and ergonomic restrictions that were placed on web design during my time. Maybe it was the dot com bubble bursting that destroyed my not-yet-started career. Maybe, actually, what I really was good at was designing tape covers.

Maybe I wasn't even good at that.

Perhaps that's it. Maybe its because everyone told me what I was doing was 'genius' (everyone being my mum and dad) and then, in fact, I found out that my tape covers weren't going to stand up to the criticism of the 'outside world' when I was pitted against others, rather than marveled at by my pc terrified friends.

Maybe I was a child born into the wrong time. CDs just weren't my thing. And websites...well, they're a far cry from my original calling. Perhaps we just weren't meant for each other.

But if anyone wants a personalised mix tape, clip arted cover, little guitar stickers and all, I'm your gal.