Sunday, October 21, 2012

The puppy, the witch and the industrial chic shelving

My baby girl has turned 18, in a veritable festival of dinners, party, beach and more dinners. It seems like only yesterday, etc, etc. I got to puppy-sit. 

While the puppy was here, she helped to put up the tent I found last week.  There were two reasons to put it up, one: to dry out any residual dampness, and two: to see whether all the bits were there.  I always enjoy a challenge and putting up a tent when you don't know what it should look like certainly counts.  OK, so the puppy actually just chewed a tennis ball and generally got underfoot, but the tent is a veritable townhouse.  I'm thinking that I may sleep there over the summer.

It's been the last few days of the verge collection.  It's also known as 'bring out your dead' for a reason and some of the piles of stuff were certainly past it.  In a veritable burst of energy we did the whole three days and found some great stuff; tied some brilliant knots; ate a lot of icecreams; packed a lot of stuff into and out of the car; went to places I didn't know even existed; met a bunch of people who drive too fast, really badly and right on the back bumper; lifted, carried, hauled, dragged and carted; and narrowly missed a snake under a rural pile.  Luckily, the person before us would appear to have dealt with that problem and what confronted us was a very recently ex-snake beside the pile.  There's a reason I make sure I wear heavy boots, socks, and jeans for the rural sites, even on the hottest of days.

The biggest disappointment was missing out on a huge and hugely kitsch flying bird made of steel, fibreglass and some sort of plaster. I left it behind last night due to the lack of room left in the vehicle, and just as we got there this morning a chap threw (and I do mean threw) it into the back of his ute.  I'm thinking that he wasn't going to carefully restore and repurpose it as an artwork, by the way he threw it (and the way it landed).  Probably just as well, the thing was enormous, but o, the possibilities! 

A slightly lesser disappointment was the range of couches, chairs and daybeds which were left behind due to lack of storage space.  One day I'll have the time and space to be able to re-upholster some of those beauties but I take solace in the fact that someone else has taken them to do just that. And if I ever find the moron who graffitti'd the two perfect club armchairs, I'll patiently explain the error of their ways while demonstrating to them an internal storage application for their markers and spraycans. 

It was a pity to leave behind the early portable record player, where the lid came apart with two speakers.  Very 60's. There were radiograms and some big units which would have made excellent industrial chic shelving.

The best and most unexpected score was probably the hymn board from a church, found literally buried in a pile of stuff.


There was that stop breathing moment of excitement, when you realise it's not just an interestingly carved wooden nob...but there's something fabulous attached to it.   I'm also excited about the long (about 1.7m) wooden ammunition box, which will be repurposed into some tall, thin shelves. There's an oak mirror, and some 50's/60's wire shop mannequins too.

And so many suitcases.  But I can't resist a suitcase.

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