Saturday, November 5, 2016

Dumpster diving yields console table. FBI considering charges.

Today a find appeared at the dumpster, and now lives in my house despite all my vows not to add anything. In fact something else will go, an ugly, dumpster-sourced, piece of furniture I have upstairs, so that  it will come out even.

What's happening is that the renovation, of which I have moaned, despite being a great proponent of it and happy we're finally updating our development, is causing some internal upheaval in various households.  These are comparatively small townhouses, and a lot of people store masses of items in the eaves of the roofs. 

However, since all the roofs are being completely torn off and renewed, this means the eaves have to be empty, so that the insulation can be taken out and replaced. Also since the roof is open to the sky when the top's off, you don't want stuff in there anyway.  

My own eaves, says she virtuously, are completely empty.  Partly because I think if you have to fill more and more storage places, you have too much stuff, and partly because of the squirrel problem. Bad experiences with mice in an earlier house, and good things laid carefully in the attic, sad story, never again.

But my neighbors are largely of a different frame of mind, and store, or stuff, stuff merrily in the eaves till they're groaning. So  all the household organization and pruning that they were thinking of doing if ever they sell, or if they get a big spring cleaning urge, has to happen very suddenly, like now.  

The result is a steady stream of interesting items at the dumpster areas, particularly at weekends, when other neighbors take a look, before the garbage detail comes early Monday to remove everything.  I have a feeling items are traveling around the development in slow motion this way.

And this is my find today 




It's pretty nice, and you see, totally clean, the drawer possibly never having been opened.  It's playing the part of a console table behind the sofa for now, always wanted one of them.  

After the holidays it may go upstairs for a plant stand at one of the windows.  I have a feeling that meanwhile, two cats might find it a nice place to sleep and look out at the birds better. 

On the food front, no pix, just a satisfactory Friday night dinner with Handsome Son.  Soup of leeks and kale, then baked flounder in crisp crumbs with lemon zest on, edible pod peas, roasted french fries.  Plum cake for dessert with a pot of tea.  Nice evening. All the vegs and fruit from the farm, always like to make that point.

I've done this before and realized that, though it's a many-stage meal to make, it comes out as fish and chips and peas, a trad brit Friday dinner.  Must be the subconscious at work, or something.

Speaking of which,  old trad language, to be exact, that Lake District shepherd whose books on the Shepherd's Life are huge best sellers, terrific writer, was on a book tour in this region this week, and was on one of my fave public radio stations, wnyc.  

They were talking about language, and he mentioned that shepherds count their sheep yan tan tethera methera pip.  This is directly from the Norse, which a lot of my Yorkshire language also harks back to.  It was suddenly an emotional moment to hear that old language on my radio!  

You can google on it if you want to see more. Shepherding is an ancient farming craft and art, and the language still is ancient.  His family has been in it for possibly a thousand years, using the old language all the time.  Tup for ram, yow for ewe, beck for stream, sneck for latch, and on and on, familiar to me but not useful to my current life!



 

1 comment:

  1. and oh what memories that must call up for you, Liz. Im trying to picture anything that has been going on in the same family for 1000 years, using that wonderful language.

    Nice find at the dumpster, too. There is a tradition here, since dump diving became frowned upon, of leaving things out by the mailbox that we don't want, but you can have, please. Most things disappear very quickly. =)

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