That's right, it's that time again! Call it what you will (I've become partial to "curb shopping"), it's time to troll the streets of Norman in search of stuff that used to belong to crazy people (in my book, throwing away useful things = crazy). Two weekends ago was the first of the season. That resulted in:
--about 30 lbs of upholstery fabric (some of which is currently for sale in my Etsy shop)
--a desk chair (I'd been using a dining room chair -- ick)
--3 tomato cages
And nary a commode in sight. But I was not discouraged, because I know that the first weekend is never the best. Those people love their yards too much to set trash on them overnight.
This last weekend, however, was better. We got up early Saturday morning, and though the McIntyres had beaten us to everything good that went out Friday night, we prevailed. The haul:
--box of about 80 Cliff's Notes and other type study guides (soon to go on eBay in a lot)
--2 more tomato cages
--Singer sewing machine with case, without power cord or pedal. It's going to the Singer Shop in town tomorrow for a check-up to see if it can be fixed.
--random textbooks that are now for sale on half.com
--20 or so manila envelopes (score!)
--And last, but not least, George:
His is an exciting story, and very emotional.
We pulled up to him, and I fell in love. Norman said, "We don't have anywhere to put it." I said, "I know," as I stared longingly at him. We pulled away, and I saw the trash truck coming down the street towards us. We turned, making to leave the neighborhood, and all I could think was, "They're going to put it in the truck, smash it up, and take it to the dump." And, much like a little girl leaving the pound who has just learned what happens to the dogs who stay there too long, I started crying. I couldn't help it. It wasn't that I couldn't have him; it was that he wasn't trash. Someone could still use him.
Norman pulled over to ask what was wrong, and I told him what I was thinking. He paused for several seconds, then turned the car around and sped back to the curb where we'd seen him. The truck was already there. The workers has already loaded the other things into the truck. I jumped out of the car just before it stopped and said, "We'll take that one!" They were very happy to hear this. I soon realized why -- George is very heavy. Norman and I loaded him into the trunk and went home to unload him before continuing with the rest of our route.
We figured we'd have to give him to someone we know or sell him. But I was already attached and trying to figure out a way to keep him. I soon decided to trade him out for the shelf that was already in the office/craft room closet. He sat outside in the rain for a day before this could be accomplished (I have a lot of crap) .
Upon cleaning him and drying him off, I decided he was a George. He fits perfectly in the closet and looks right at home.
Anyone need a shelf?