Sometimes you just have to let it go

Friday. Polk City. Spring Cleanup Day.


I was supposed to be out on a mission for red paint for the front door. And, eventually, I fulfilled that mission. But I went a little out of the way by about, oh, twenty miles, and headed up to Polk City to see what those folks consider junk.


Turns out they throw away lots of good stuff up north. As soon as I pulled into town, I spotted a lovely 1930's vanity, topped with nasty old rugs. I stopped the car, graciously pushed the rugs aside, and although the vanity had a severely damaged top, it was going to be mine.


Until further inspection.


I opened one drawer, a drawer with a lovely carved handle, mind you, and do you want to know what I found? Really? Are you sure?


MOUSE POOP!


Immediately disgusted, I ran back to the minivan and drowned myself in hand sanitizer. But as I sped away, I couldn't help but feel sad. That gorgeous piece of furniture, so horribly neglected that it was allowed to become a mouse house. If it weren't for the mouse droppings, all it needed was a new top. It was so pretty, but sometimes, it's just not meant to be.


These folks also threw out a lovely old rocker. But it violated my ban on upholstered junk. I was tempted to take it for the wooden parts (again, carved loveliness), but given the mouse droppings discovery, I wasn't going to even mess with whatever most probably was living in the cushion on that chair.


I did find some sturdy old boards, weathered and white. A few keyhole cuts and I have a place for the sweet old hooks I found at (where else) Found Things last weekend for 50 cents apiece. I also scrounged a pair of iron brackets that were screwed into solid rectangular blocks of wood, perfect for cutting up into squares for who-knows-what. Two potential projects for the (free) price of one! And a coat rack. I'm not quite sure what I plan on doing with that, but it spoke to me. I also found a smaller version of the plastic container I bought at Home Depot last week to make my own version of Michelle Beschen's Rachael Ray Planters. My pots are square, so this will be interesting. At the very least, I figure I'm out $4 of Quickrete and a few squirts of Pam. At most, I'll have really cool cement planters for the front porch.

(Have you gotten the drift that I'm not the kind of girl who enjoys store-boughtedness?)

Ooh, which reminds me: I had an odd thought about other uses for Quickrete when I was bundling up yard waste yesterday afternoon. Why not use old muffin tins and pop out a bunch of personalize-able edgers? The Quickrete I bought sets up in 20-40 minutes, but my kids are fast. I could pop them out of the molds after ten minutes, I figure, then let the kiddoes go to town with the stamps and doodads I acquired with the stepping stone kit I bought when we still lived in Texas. About time to make use of those, don't you think? And since we ripped out the railroad ties (ACK!) the previous owners used to edge the planting areas around the yard, my au naturel method of mounding mulch, effectively making mini berms around all the irises and daylilies and mums all over the yard, just hasn't worked as well as I'd planned.

Urbandale Spring Cleanup starts tomorrow, or tonight, if you're junk obsessed. I hope my eyes will be discerning enough to discover some more great junk, even though I don't have night vision goggles like some of my junking brethren.

I may be serious, but I'm not *that* serious. Good grief!


I've added a few more locally grown blogs to my list of must-reads over there on the right. Check out JB Knacker and Old Crow Farm. I have yet to make the trip to Gilbert to visit the actual JB Knacker store, but I keep planning to do so. Elizabeth and I visited Old Crow Farm last fall during the Covered Bridges Festival. It was on the way to Winterset, and we couldn't help it (well, at least I couldn't help it). I could have stayed there all day, but Elizabeth was bored so we left far too soon. Maybe she'll be game for Spring Fling in May? A mother can hope!

It just feels a bit lonely, thinking I'm the only person in the whole wide world who finds life in inanimate and somewhat disgusting discards. I'm trying to connect with the underworld of junkers that I just know are out there, nearby, creating in earnest.