Thursday, March 24, 2011

Trash Talk

No swearing will be done on this page - I promise! Trash talk only means that I feel like telling a story(or two) from years past of my fondness for junking! Seems that I've been treasure hunting and thrill seeking since childhood.....
Yep, I said thrill seeking!

If only there were photographs of me along with my cohorts of brothers and cousins as we traipsed plowed fields to get to a lonely, dilapidated, abandoned farmhouse.  For a few years this place sat in an orchard a mile or so from our Grandparent's home.

this is not a photo of MY place, but looks much like it!    - photo from Limbloggercheese-
Our gang would while away hours inside, pretending it was our home. We would rearrange furniture, sweep and clean. Searching through all of the rooms and the barn too - looking for some special treasure. Funny, we never took anything away from that property! I'm sure the treasures were plenty, but we were merely children and had no use for anything. It was solely for the thrill of it all !  Years later this beautiful place burned to the ground. I've always wished I could've returned.

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Another age, another place, another story ~

Again, an abandoned building takes center stage. While on a weekend away with girlfriends to a small delta town...  levees and murky delta water, ducks and reeds, docks and boating. There stood a house that belonged to my closest friend's family. Down the levee were other homes - some  occupied, others vacation places, and numerous unused and abandoned shacks.  I remember going for a walk and turning off to look into the windows of a ramshackle mess. I decided to go in. In other words - not so kindly - to TRESPASS ! Of course I didn't think I was doing any harm, or breaking the law. That's the sort of thinking you have when you're 20-something years old. Most everyone else was NOT on board with entering! I sifted through piles and piles of junk. And then I stopped. I had in my hands an old High School Yearbook. Oakland Tech to be exact. I was more intrigued with reading the handwritten notes and scanning the photos than I was concerned with being found out, or with finding treasure.  The yearbook was the only thing I took from that place. I Swear Officer! I didn't steal anything of great value!  As I browsed the annual I came first upon a face, then upon the name. I checked and re-checked. Handing off to my friends to make sure we were seeing the right thing. This is who we saw:

Ain't his hair purty??  The yearbook I have is NOT Clint's own personal one, rather a classmate of his. I can't find hide nor hair of his autograph amongst the others.

That was quite a fun find!

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Lastly, a dumpster diving story ~

I'm prone to climbing up the ladders on the sides of dumpsters to take a peek in and see what I might find. One of my walks past said garbage bin yielded a quite LARGE object one year.  Try as I might, I was unable to budge this object. It would have to sit there and wait for Hubby to get home from work. I was truly concerned that either a) the garbage truck would come to haul , or b) someone else would happen by and also want this lovely treasure. It seemed forever before Hubby arrived. He was game enough, as I remember it. Well, that surely changed after he saw the object in question!! I had found a HUGE, HEAVY cast iron cauldron. It was stuck way down, deep inside the trash. Poor, poor Hubby had to climb into the pit and lift this behemoth from the floor and up over the ledge to reach me, and the ground without dropping it. This was not an easy task, but he did it! And to this day it is in use and loved dearly by us.

So, goodnight for now. Story time is over. There's always more where these came from....

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