Every summer when we visited Grandpa's farm in Michigan, the cousins would spend hours sorting through Grandpa's junk. He had sheds and barns and garages overflowing with things he bought at auctions and farm sales. I would usually bring in a book, ask Grandpa to sign the inside cover, and bring it back to Kansas with me. Once I found one of those old hairdryers with a hose that runs from the fan unit to the cap you wear on your head. I got to bring it home and use it. I thought I was so extremely glamorous. (Those of you who knew me at age 10 - if you noticed an extra inch or two of fluff to my already gorgeous perm, now you know why!) I fell in-love with a huge, heavy claw-foot tub that I begged to bring home to fill with pillows for sitting in and reading. Mom and Dad kindly agreed, as long as I would use my allowance to rent the trailer to bring it home. It stayed in Michigan.
My kiddos have recently found their own junkpile.....the abandoned lot behind our house where a feedmill used to stand. They check it out every few days, in case new crap has somehow appeared. They usually find rusty nails and bolts and chunks of concrete. The last time we were there, Eva found a 2 foot thin metal pipe and held it above her head as though she had found the most incredible treasure. They store their findings in their own personal craphouse - the playhouse behind our garage, and plan to sort it all when its warmer out.
I can totally appreciate the feeling of "the find".
Of scrounging around and being allowed to take whatever you find.
As though it was left there by someone who just knew that YOU would come along and find it and care for it.
I love it that they love this junk.
And I'll be taking your donations for tetanus shots!
