Roadside Thrills

After the unfortunate cat incident from last week, it was heart-quickening to see another pile of junk in the same street. I had to drop the Doctor off to pre-school, take Tiny to the real doctor, and then I drove back past ye olde pile-o-junk to take my pickings. Everything was as it should be. No tails protruding from boxes. Phew.

Today I scored this cute little beauty case, smells totes musty, but it's in awesome condition.

And this little card table that I think we might make into an outdoor table.

The beauty of finding such.. finds is that if we don't like them, we can just put them back out on the street and someone else might dig them. I don't need a receipt to return them, and that's always a bonus.

Have you scored any roadside thrills lately?

When Garbage Is

I know I haven't really blogged much about garbage finds lately. Not for a while. Not since the Doctor found that old skool skateboard with the handle. I found something too, but I have still been too lazy to photograph it. It's really not that exciting.

But there are other things I must report back to headquarters. Paperwork is always a drag, and so I've been putting off logging it. But no more.

The other day when I was driving by myself, I was driving down a road frequented by myself when I saw a bunch of boxes on the footpath. I slowed, rolled past, then realised there was no one behind me. I had at this point thought I'd seen something of interest. So I reversed as any good garbage hunter will do.

Now's the time for you to leave the 'puter if you have a queasy stomach.

As I was rolling the car back, the boxes came into clearer view. I saw something dark and I thought, hmm, that looks interesting. And then I saw it. Three limbs, three dark furry limbs, a long sleek tail. I have a queasy stomach, and the rest obscured by a piece of paper. I don't even think I have told anyone this (except maybe Matt, but he would have forgotten for shiz), and each time I think of it, my stomach flips. And it kind of goes without saying that I burned rubber to get the hey outta there.

So there is yet another moral here. Be careful when rifling through other people's garbage. Apparently it's now kosher to dump deceased pets on the footpath. Apparently burying them is passe.

In other cat related news, here's one of my favourite children's books. I love me some cats.

Old School Skating

We went on a leisurely Sunday afternoon walk. We like to do that. I threw a chicken in the oven (that I had stuffed after gagging, I hate touching raw chicken, and stuffing them for that matter - enter the squeams!) and then we walked. The Doctor had a minor meltdown as he couldn't find his helmet, and in our house no helmet equals no racers. So he had to walk.

This may have been fortuitous because just down the road was a pile of rubbish. And you know what that means in our language. Good times. The Doctor and I rummaged 'til our hearts were content. Matt, of course, stood back. Because he's too cool to be seen going through other people's junk. Me? No way Jose. I'm in there. I'll show you tomorrow what I found - not today because today I am too lazy to take a photo. But the Doctor triumphed over his helmet downfall. He scored this old school skateboard (here he is rad dawging), check out the handle that helps him steer the deck, and gain a little confidence, le old school way.

The thing I particularly loved about our work, besides the rubbish of course, was a couple of ginger cats coming out to say hi to the smalls. We've met one of these cats on a previous walk before. But yesterday, not only did ol' Ginger run out, his mate did too. The smalls were in cattie heaven.

Something I Found In A Bin

It's been almost a year since my epic affair with someone else's bin, and so it seems only fit that I show you something else I found in a bin. A long time ago, but I've never mentioned it, until today that is folks.

Would you believe someone had tossed this little beauty out?

Along with this, I found a bag of fabric scraps, which was intermingled with a whole bunch of panty-hose (fancy crafty bank robbery anyone?) - which I declined to hold onto for fairly obvious reasons, a letter dated August 1971, and an awesome child's armchair which has gone to my brother-in-law in the hope that he might one day find some time to reupholster it for me, because damn fool, it's positively darling.

I Have A Big Problem

We're supposed to be going away tomorrow to visit my parents. I say supposed to be because I have a large problem. I've already started feeling tense, I've got a sore jaw from grinding my teeth and I feel a wee bit stressed. It's a five hour drive with two little ones, but that's not the reason I am feeling tense, I'm down with the drive. The reason I am feeling a little tense about this trip... It's garbage night tomorrow night, and I am going to miss my date with my favourite bin.

I've been thinking of saying to my mum and dad that we can't come. Something's come up. We'll drive up on Friday instead.

But really, I should just book a lobotomy. What's wrong with me? Why am I so enamoured with this bin? It's because of the presents it ALWAYS brings me.

This is how wrong I have become. I've been trying to think of someone I could ask to go through it for me tomorrow night. The only person I know around here is my mother-in-law and I don't think she'd be up for scrummaging through the wheelie bin. So no go there. The only other people around here that know me work in shops. I can't imagine saying, 'Hi can I get a kilo of mince and can you please stake out this bin for me?'. Not going to work.

If I asked my friends that don't live close by, they'd have to drive at least 40 minutes - and even then - they would probably book me in for some electric shock treatment for even considering asking them.

What can I do? Stake out that bin before we drive off? Pack the car, go park outside 'the house' until they put out the garbage and then drive? (Don't worry - I have thought of this, and buying doughnuts and playing out my favourite cop shows).

Last night, just before Matt and I sat down for dinner I told him I had to go out for ten minutes. I didn't tell him where I was going. Later he asked me how my walk had been. I said 'what walk?' (I did my walk earlier in the day so was puzzled why he was asking me this), he said the one you went on when you went out for ten minutes..

Oops. Yes well at that time, I wasn't walking. I was doing a quick drive-by of 'the house' to check out if it was council pick up day (it wasn't) in their street.

Now this is where I get really twisted. My sister Choc was chatting to a woman who lives in my suburb. Choc was telling this woman about my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow (read - my garbage bin). Then Choc rang me and asked me what street 'the house' is in. I wouldn't tell her. Nope. Not telling. Still not telling. No. No. No. Not telling! I even made up a street name. I really am a junk junkie if I am going to lie about this.

What did I think was going to happen? This woman would find out where 'the house' is and next time I turned up for garbage day, there'd be somoene selling tickets to the garbage bin, first in first serve. That garbage bin is so good the line would be wrapped around the block, everyone vying for their chance to stick their head in it, get up close and personal with it, it might need bodyguards.

So I am missing my bin tomorrow. (Did I ever think I'd be missing a bin? No, never.) That's my big problem.

PS - Formatting isseeeews c/- blogger.