I am convinced that scavenger is a gene passed down from generation to generation. My mom loathes junk stores and Antique shops and my dad would never buy anything second hand, but my grandfather was a one-of-a-kind scavenger. His children will call him a junk collector who hated to throw things away, but I call him a trailblazing treasure hunter and most likely the reason I turned out this way. My affinity for all things old, used, and/or unique started very young and I notice the trait in both my niece and nephew, a mere eight and three, respectively. They will insist on keeping dried up leaves, seemingly ordinary stones, and other interesting items that have been carelessly discarded by the non-scavenger and regarded as "trash." Recently, during a weekly clean up, my sister consolidated lincoln logs into one large bin and planned to discard the others, until my nephew (age 3), angered at the thought of sending them to the trash, sternly convinced her that he would be needing those spare receptacles in the future. I felt for the little guy and know that one day he'll take comfort in the fact that he is not alone, but comes from a long line of scavengers and pack rats. And so today I salute fellow treasure hunters and stuff keepers around the world, without whom there would be no shrines full of treasure where I go to worship Saturdays or Tuesdays or any day I need to be inspired.
Here are some thoughts and photos from my latest pilgrimage:
The Dude abides. Yes, indeed these are bowling pins. They are old, heavy, and so sculptural. I want them for an entryway tableau or to use as bookends perhaps.
Creeper. This picture pretty much sums up why I love antique shops, especially old, damp, smelly warehouse ones. As I quietly go up and down each aisle, I feel like I'm searching for lost treasure, encountering ghosts, thieves, and the occasional creepy bald mannequin.
I recently saw one of these in
Country Living as part of a very glamorous all white tableau and I want it for my mantle.
Tommy and I have been desperately seeking ice bucket for months. I was so excited to show him this one that I found, which I think most would agree is cute as a button. He did not enthuse, but I may have to get it anyway...
I thought this little guy was so cute. I would love to spray him hot pink.
I think this is an old buoy of sorts. It would look lovely next to my fireplace or on top of our china cabinet with some other found objects.
I bought three of these wooden shoe forms. I didn't know what I was going to do with them, but I thought they were neat. A couple days later, I saw this little arrangement over at
dreamhouse :
Bust or bust! I want a bust so bad and this little fella is real cute... and kinda sad. Don't worry guy, you're destined for far greater things than holding up that lousy needlework!
After I told Tommy that it spun in circles, he was completely sold on this mod desk chair. Cha ching!
I thought this coffee table was mod and fabulous. So, apparently, did the seller and priced it as such.
I love this sink. I would buy it with my imaginary money, restore it with my imaginary skills and install it in my imaginary bathroom. I love my imaginary life.
When I was a child, I was afraid of mannequins. At the site of them being dressed or assembled, I would always exclaim, "I can't worry about it." I can't imagine what these images would have done to my childhood mind. The lady in the first picture doesn't look too happy about the whole thing either.
