Wednesday, December 8, 2010

One Man's Trash . . .

I always thought that if I were to blog I would probably post for a few days, then get busy and skip a few weeks, then post something obnoxiously long to overcompensate . . . this is that post. Sorry in advance for the overcompensation.

I was in about 6th grade when an unforgettable event took place in my family. The four of us were driving home when my Mom yelled,  "STOP THE CAR!" My Dad stopped and backed up to a curb where there were two antique double-wide school desks left for the garbage man.  Because it was broad daylight, AND those things were too big to fit easily into the trunk of a Volvo, AND because my Dad is an engineer who would be very meticulous in tying desks into his Volvo, my parents decided they could not make a clean getaway and should ask for permission to take the curbside desks. At this point my sister and I were on the floorboard in the back of the car . . . mortified.

My Mom spent hours cleaning and refinishing those desks and eventually I grew to appreciate them.  Not only were they interesting furniture, but they were an entertaining story.  

our rescued desk
Last spring driving down MY road, I yelled to Chris,  "STOP THE CAR!"  It was the night before trash pickup and, guess what . . . there was an old school desk on the curb!  I learned that night, that rescuing furniture is in my blood . . . and that, unlike my dad,  my husband can steal trash at lightening speed.

So this is my tribute to some of our recent "rescues" and other freebies . . .
This is the front of an old "on-its-way-to-the-dump-because-it-couldn't-be-tuned" piano that is now hanging above my bed.

Chris's contribution: a wooden pumpkin he carved out of a log in our yard.

These are the kids' "Thankful Trees."  My favorite thankful leaf is Jack's "my eyeballs."

Chris's Mom discovered a tree with acorns the size of golf balls.  I just gluegunned them on wreaths that I already had and hung them with burlap.
This is my "fruit of the spirit" sign.  Chris drug the board off of a scrap pile from a house being torn down, and I painted the words.
My sweet neighbor liked mine, drug her own board off the scrap pile and asked me to paint some words for her.  She picked a list from 1 Corinthians 13.