Caving In

Throughout my mom's property there are three large storage sheds, full of old family junk, that make every child's imagination run on overdrive.

Well, the last time I was here there were three... now there are two. During the last few years (no one's sure when) one of the sheds caved in.

I only discovered this when I went to show my munchkins our old fort and happened past the shed. To my dismay no one had gone in to retrieve any of the salvagable's.

Grumbling a little about how I have to do everything I trudged in and started picking through things. My little sister watched on in horror, promising that I'd contract the Huntavirus for my troubles. It wasn't until I triumphantly (and with maybe an excess of possessive laughter) pulled an old typewriter out of the mess.

"I get that!" she shouted from the doorway.

"In your dreams." I laughed. "Whose the one in here? Hmm?"

So, the next day (yesterday) my sister and I suited up and went in--there's nothing like a little treasure hunting to convince the undecided. The place is a huge mess and by the time we finally gave up we were both covered in dust and mouse poop. There is so much still in there that needs to be pulled out, but as the two youngest in the family we decided that the four boxes of our oldest brother's stuff that we hauled out was enough for us.

We did exact a price however. I mean, that's what little sister's do, isn't it? Two typewriters, one box completely full of buttons, two rackets, two golf clubs and a large, sturdy, metal tool box. Okay, we might have taken more... but as little sister's we know how to keep our mouths shut about the things we 'acquire.'

And the icing on top?

No one can argue our price, because if we hadn't gone in there none of the stuff would have ever again seen the light of day. Not those elementary school pictures from 30 years ago. Not the scrapbook my mom made as a child. Not even the small tin can full of Brazilian Reals.

Too bad for them they didn't get to it first or they might have gotten the box of buttons. 

Comments

Jennifer said…
If one of those typewriters is an electric, it's probably the one Grandma B gave me as a high school graduation present. (And either of you are more than welcome to it, since I obviously haven't thought of it in many years!) :)

I'm glad you went in there and retrieved the photos - although I am horrified to hear that there were photos in there in the first place. The better we get all our old photos scanned in, the better.
August 10, 2011 at 12:36 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How-To Pretend You Work For Anthropologie

Image
The problem with Anthropologie is that they cost way too much money. WAY TOO MUCH! I mean, come on--these book boxes: source: Anthropologie Cost $68-$188! Do you have that kind of money? I don't, but you know what I do have? I have a library with a cart full of free books that no one really cares about! So guess what I did... I made my own (and then I gave them away because I really don't have anywhere to put them). Here's how. What do you think?
Read more

Altered Shoe Art: Ring Holder Shoe Tutorial

Image
This was my week two craft for So You Think You're Crafty. I placed third that week for this one. I thought you might enjoy finding out how I made it. I tried about a million different decorations before settling on one that didn't drown out my rings. I wanted them to the focal point. This is also why I went with black fabric and not something more vivid. Don't be intimidated by the lack of 101 I'm giving you. It really is a straight forward sort of project. If you know how to use a glue gun without burning yourself you can do this. Just be sure to dust off your imaginative brain space first. :) The one important thing you might be wondering is how I got the pink fabric to stick to the shoe. I really just Mod Podged it on. There are several different ways to make ring tubes that you can find online. One I saw used that colored foam paper stuff that you find in the kids craft section. I thought that might have been easier, but I had scraps o
Read more

Mutterings of a Middle-Aged Dreamer

Image
Use your words, my dear sweet soul, they are inside of you... So find them. Write, you silly girl, write so hard the world will never forget you. But does it matter if the world remembers you?  Age begins to press its hands upon your chest and the need to be remembered seems to increase with the pressure.  Stop. That's not a line of thought you're interested in pursuing.  Live in the now. Does it matter if the world remembers you if your neighbor is going hungry?  Perhaps age is merely pushing you out the door.  Go. Live in the now. 
Read more