The Old has become New

Remember back in April when I spent all my birthday money at Goodwill on 50% off day with visions of a shabby chic backyard?  Well, it is slowly materializing!  Finally!  I found this top from a girl’s bedroom set… maybe from the bed or a desk hutch… and I could envision a garden shelf dealie to stack my pots and hang my tools.

Then I looked for MONTHS for a bottom piece to store my dirt and fertilizer and turtle kneeling pad.  I think it was in August or September that I happened on this gem at Goodwill… on another 50% off day!  Sweet mother of baby Jesus!  It was perfect.  The guy at the store told me that it came in from a monastery full of religious books all in Chinese.  So half of the finished product was in the ministry.  :o) 

After much painting and sanding and hammering 1×4’s on the back so it doesn’t fall and kill a small child or dog… it is finished!  My husband took one look at the finished product and asked, “So you had all that junk?”  Nice, eh?  Yes, I did… and one man’s junk is his wife’s treasure.  I actually will use the junk, well, most of it.  The ceramic butterfly in the center was handmade by my six-year-old self in Renton, Washington in a ceramics class at a neighbor’s house.  The rest is truly junk.  Not the butterfly.

We did have a near catastrophe whilst waiting for the 1×4’s to be nailed on the back.  I had it set up in the middle of our back porch… clearly capable of falling and killing a small child or dog.  The wind whipped up a gale to behold and knocked the top right off.  It fell backwards, hit the NEW, glass patio table, got a big bash-in on the back piece and fell to the ground.  Shoot.  I put the big tin plate on the top shelf in front of the bash-in evidence.  All is well now.  Why would anyone need this in their yard, you ask?  Because now my gardening gloves won’t get chewed and buried by the dogs.  That’s really what this was all about…. me having to repeatedly replace my flimsy gardening gloves from the dollar store.  See, all is well now. (I have since planted those violas in those six pots in the little green stand on the right.  They are darling.)

Treasure Junking

In Phoenix, the trash collection authorities are quite gracious by granting us permission FOUR TIMES A YEAR to leave large lumps of litter on the curb in front of our homes.  They come around with a huge truck and take it all away for us.  When we lived in our previous house with 32 full-grown trees, this plan was a godsend.  We would have had to make a trip to the dump four times a year without this blessed service.  Large Garbage Pickup even has a map with zones and dates so you never miss your turn to display your trash.

My kids figured out when this would all occur as interesting items started showing up along our street.  They asked if I would drive them around the neighborhood to see if there was other people’s junk that could be their treasure.  I’m not sure why I fell for this…. but I did, and hard.  We found a fish tank, a garden cart, a sand box, a Little Tikes Doll House, an ice cream freezer like in 7-11 (which we gave to the youth group), shutters and a bird-cage, etc. etc. etc..  I’m sure there are other quality items I’m forgetting too.  This practice got named “Treasure Junking“.  It’s sort of down-scaled garage sale-ing with no money needed.  Fit right into our budget.

Well, it is still alive and well in the Crosby house.  Last weekend my bug-spraying husband was spraying bugs over in the next city, and lo and behold, it was Large Garbage Pickup in that same neighborhood.  Destiny.  Rick watched as the man who lived across the street from the fully sprayed house went in and out of the garage three times and placed three bicycles on the curb.  This fascinated my husband, Mr. Wallet.  He strode over, as he’s been known to do in all parts of the world, and asked about the bikes.  Sure enough, the guy was DONE with bikes in his garage that no one used.  Rick asked if he could take them for our kids.  And now I have ELEVEN bikes parked in the garage where my van should be.  (It’s hopeless.)  Anyway, the bikes Rick brought home are OLD… old like dirt.  Two are black Huffy cruisers with white walls and springs under the seats… and the dream of my 17-year-old daughter’s heart.  Truly.  She is outside washing it right now.  She’s never washed a bike in her life, I’m pretty sure.  She went to Walmart and found large wicker baskets that you can put on the handlebars…. and foamy grips that look like wood.  She’s really into this.

The third bike, as far as we can determine, is a 1970 Schwinn with a small wheel in the front, large one in the back, a banana seat and long handle bars.  Something Beaver Cleaver rode.  To my astonishment again, our youngest son claimed it.  Yes, it shocked me.

Needless to say, our youngest daughter, who is eight, is thrilled because now there are all sorts of people wanting to go on bike rides with her.  And now, for the first time in about 10 years, I have a bike to ride.  These bikes even promote good posture!  Win win.