Because I cannot start a post with the following paragraph in fear that you will leave and never look back. (Who reads blogs about trash!) I feel the ridiculous need to begin on a different note: Since Jon is home on summer break, we go walking every morning together (before the temps get out of control). It is a beautiful time of day to be outside as the sun glimmers through the trees, and the whole neighborhood smells fresh and green. Flowers are preening, trees are stretching, birds are singing. Okay, now that the scene is set, onto the original post...
In college, I read the essay "On Dumpster Diving," by Lars Eighner. It was a good essay, but the subject left me thoroughly grossed out. The thought of eating cheese from the trash turned my stomach. It was the type of essay that I would like to forget. But every time we go walking on trash day, I cannot stop looking at people's garbage, and I think of this essay every time.
Now, let's be very clear...I do not go through people's trash. I do not dive into dumpsters.
But every now and then, you do find that what was one man's trash, can be another man's treasure.
Enter...this little cutie chair...
(who was sitting on a nicely manicured curbside, next to, but in no way in the trash).
She is a sturdy little sweetie, whose seat was a little too loved, but that can be replaced in a jiffy. A little cleanup, a new seat, and this wee one will be on its way to the Firecracker Fair as part of our display! I will post pictures as soon as we her fixed up.