this cute little 'wallet' that contains a notepad, pencil and pack of unopened playing cards, from tasmania! 
Finally I am here with photos to show. Finally I hear you breathlessly sigh. You've been waiting, haven't you? Sorry. We had a sunshine filled weekend and I didn't want to touch the loot because, well truth be, I felt a little guilty.Thursday night I drove up to the house to discover that there was one lone bin out on the street - the green bin. Full of sticks. Pattern?
I felt a bit miffed. I know that house is full of the goods. I know it because when I went and knocked on the door that day, I saw through the window. It's full to the gills. I know I sound like a wee bit of a stalker, but how can you be a stalker with two small fry in tow? You can't. They need sleeps, you need mental health time, you need to mop the floor, you need to cook dinner, I'm no stalker, unless you count stalking old stuff as stalker. Then well yeah, I could have been SWF but really I'd be MWFWTK (that's Married White Female With Two Kids).
I was turning the car around, despondent, when I spied the bin to triumph all bins. The gigantic white skip. Gigantic. Not your normal size skip. It was plus size with a capital P. Not satisfied with a bin full of sticks, I got out of my car. Wary. Was this a trap? You see, it wasn't on the street, I would have spotted that a mile away. It was in their driveway, I could see it was FULL! This was like the motherload to the power of the motherload. And then some.
I snuck in with torch in hand. Gloves in pocket. Mobile in other pocket (in case I got into some trouble in the clink and they'd only give me one phone call - well I could arrange other phone calls on my mobile). All the while I kept in the back of my mind that my mother-in-law has just graduated with honours from a law degree. Handy when you're crawling around someone else's backyard in pitch black rifling through their garbage, yes?
So there I was. Every time a car drove past, I ducked. As though they had some security company/police on speed dial. I am pretty sure there's no one there. The house is always dark. But still, paranoia persists, so I duck. Ready to roll, and rehearsing scenarios in my head. Sheesh, this was stressful. Each time I go back I am sure someone is going to pounce on me, I heard rustling I was sure it was the neighbour peeking at me. In actual fact, it was probably just a possum or a local cat. I'd turn my torch on, find something, pull it out, then torch off. Over and over again. I found gorgeous old crockery -but because they had tossed it into the skip, it had great cracks through it. Sad. But at last I had gathered a small pile. I loaded it into the car. I drove home. Tingling.
After a little while, and some consultation with my sister and Cindy from bugandpop, I conned Matt into coming with me - on the proviso that he wasn't going to come to the bin, he was only the driver. Spicy huh? Like this time I had myself my very own getaway vehicle. Does this make him an accessory to the crime? Gosh I hope so. I don't want to sit in the cell alone.
I ran back in, with unbridled confidence - like I was born to do this. Scavenge through other people's trash. What a calling! I looted like there was no tomorrow. I got a few more things. Kept hiding in the darkness when cars went past. Piled my stash up and made my way back to the car, then - fell in a hole twisted my ankle, ouch! Matt was sitting in the car - half in shock, maybe half in awe - that I just picked myself up hobbled to the boot loaded the stuff in, and then went straight back to the skip. That's show business folks, on with the show.
But all the while, in the back of my head - I was thinking, my goodness, I am about to get arrested for being in this yard with a torch and rubber gloves. Imagine telling people that. The next day, sore ankle and very sore back - but loads of goodies to sort through.
This is it. This is my loot for the week. 
