Tag Archives: junk

Apparently any attic will do.

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I think I may have mentioned my husband’s obsession with crap useless vintage items. I’ve spent nearly four decades watching him sort through dusty boxes at yard sales, flea markets and antique stores…. but last week he surprised even me.

When we moved back to Maine 20 years ago he had to start a new job before we sold our house, so I stayed down south for a few months while he bunked with a relative. Since he didn’t want to make the trip empty handed, he filled his truck with boxes and stored them in an uncle’s attic. I thought we’d collected all those boxes long ago, but after taking his uncle out to lunch last week we were told some of them were still upstairs.

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Did we find the boxes? Yes, after 3 seconds of scanning from the top step I pointed them out. Did that stop my treasure hunting husband from searching someone else’s junk for a heretofore unknown copy of the constitution or a Honus Wagner rookie card? No. It did not.

I’m happy to report he found nothing but junk which thankfully stayed where it was. And after opening our leftover boxes, I would have been happy to leave some of those there as well. They were heavy as hell and mostly filled with books and clothes.

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It was a bit like a time capsule. My Pat Conroy phase reared it’s head.. and 20 years later I had to wonder why I felt the need to schlepp those all the way to Maine. But it was when I examined the clothes that a little piece of me died.

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Because it was at that moment I realized I am literally twice the woman I used to be, and not in a good way.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten helped me sort when we got home, though to be honest it wasn’t a tough job.

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Not one single thing fit. I mean, hell… it wasn’t even close. If there’s anything more depressing than being smacked in the face with your weight gain by a box full of size sixes and eights, I don’t know what it is.

😫

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Oh, well. I did manage to dig out a few pieces of long lost jewelry … and they don’t care what size I am.

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If only I could talk the husband into this….

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As previously mentioned, my husband has stuff.

A lot of stuff.

So much *ucking stuff.

It’s stuff he refuses to donate or throw out, and we know he’ll never get around to selling it…. no matter how hard it is to maneuver around the piles.

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But he does like to give things away now and then…. so when I saw this on Facebook? An evil chuckle escaped my lips.

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I love this idea!

Please include your physical address with your comment. Something old and utterly useless could be coming your way.

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Incentive

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I’m trying to see the bright side of my husband’s latest purchase. It’s not easy, but when he brought it home last week and attempted to park it in the garage?

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I saw a glimmer of hope that he might actually throw some things out to make room. You know, like the old broken gutters, the yard sale fake oil painting and the air conditioner that hasn’t worked since 1999?

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But we’re talking about my husband … so things just got stacked in higher piles.

I told him there was too much junk. Repeatedly.

Did he listen?

I think you know the answer to that.

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He did not… and ran into the broken air conditioner instead.

🥴

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I love my town… Part who cares anymore.

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Our town has come up with some marvelously creative ways to keep kids active and engaged during the Covid months. This is the latest.

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Businesses and public areas are all displaying clues.

In other news, people are offering free treasures.

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Dirty, smoke stained old cups from a discontinued set? Christ, don’t tell my husband.. he’d be on them like white on rice.

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An icicle contest. Most excellent!

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Our big one had grown to 5 feet so I proudly entered it to take the lead…..

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Until Robert showed up.

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Damn you Robert. You and your massive projectile.

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The circle of life.

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As you already know, my husband is the king of free. He can’t pass up anything, no matter how useless…. as long as he doesn’t have to pay for it.

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This has driven me nuts for years and I have never, ever! felt the need to join him in his obsession.

Until last week.

When I saw this on our local Facebook page:

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Pre-Covid our plan was to replace all the flooring in our home. (Post Covid? Holy crap, I don’t want strange people in my house!) Along with that plan would have come long overdue new furniture, to include coffee tables. So since the plan went out the window with the plague, I thought why not? This looks good… and it might be a nice interim fix.

I should have known.

When the husband lifted it out of the truck? It jiggled…. and never even made it into the house. What an utter piece of junk! Fake wood, loose glass and legs so unsteady dropping a napkin on it would probably cause it to collapse.

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Out it went, in front of our house.

How bad was it?

The damn thing was there for a week and though lots of people looked, no one wanted it.

Next stop?

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The recycle center.

Where I left it…. and my desire to ever pick up anything marked free again.

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A bridge too far.

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Things have started appearing on our barn porch.

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Rusty things.

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Old things.

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Things that look like my husband chose them.

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He swears he didn’t, and since we weren’t home when these things showed up? I have to believe him.

Someone is leaving things on our porch.

Things we don’t need.

We have more than enough things!

So please, whoever did this?

Keep your things to yourself.

It’s a miracle… albeit a small one.

 

By now I think you’re all familiar with the giant barn we built a few years ago.

 

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The husband had visions of a man cave complete with bar, pool table and plenty of space to display his  totally useless crap  treasures.

What he got was a little different.

 

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This is what happens when you’re a hoarder in training. You have a more than ample 2 story space and you fill it with random  rubbish, recycled debris  stuff.

So the other day when the husband asked me if I would help him clear some of it out?

 

 

I admit I was a trifle excited.

 

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The future yard sale pile grew larger.

But don’t faint…. it’s mostly my things, with some items a friend left in his basement for the husband when he moved to Oklahoma. Yes, that’s the $800 scooter we bought on Craig’s List for the husband’s brother who said he wanted it but didn’t like it and never used it. My eyes did some serious rolling that day let me tell you.

 

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There was a lot of heavy lifting involved as none of the husband’s  rusty crap  treasures are light.

What… you don’t have an adjustable height potato planter that weighs as much as a medium sized water buffalo?

Why ever not.

 

 

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Of course he wanted most of these items upstairs.

 

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See that?

It’s a hay bale fork with a pulley system for the hay bales we’ll never have or be required to move. And guess what? When you drop it on your toe while climbing the stairs….

You curse it.

Quite colorfully as it turns out.

 

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As we spent the next few hours moving and sweeping and organizing…  ( okay, that was me and it was pretty fruitless because the husband refused to put anything in the trash pile, even this collection of tires that don’t fit any vehicle we own )  I realized my miracle clean out was really just a ‘move things around so you can see the floor again’ type of miracle. But hey, I’ll take what I can get.

Before  –

 

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After –

 

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Floor!

 

Part of it anyway.

 

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I wish I could make him understand how wonderful a space this could be if he would just part with all the junk. And I don’t mean everything….. mixed in with all the why the hell did you buy that! stuff are some legitimately interesting things.

 

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This old butter table is sweet.

 

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And I do love the old apple press.

Otis the Opsrey is waiting patiently to be installed on the roof as well.

 

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Though that baby is all mine and cost me a pretty penny.

But the ridiculous things he picks up and brings home because they’re free?

 

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They’ve got to go.

 

 

 

Things my husband does that make me say WTH?

 

So I went out to the garage a while ago and saw he had moved the snow blower.

And while that in itself isn’t strange…

This was.

 

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Huh?

 

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Yes, that’s a bungee cord with one end hooked to the mirror…..

 

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And the other end hooked to the blower chute.

It took me a minute to realize he did this due to the limited space on his side of the building.

How limited?

Here’s a shot of the back end.

 

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Yeah.

 

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I’d say he had backed up as far as he could.

 

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The more logical solution of throwing out all that crap treasure not withstanding.

 

 

 

A bridge too far.

 

It’s bad enough my husband stops at every yard sale he sees.

 

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It’s bad enough he comes home from the dump with more than he went with.

It’s bad enough he built a giant barn and filled it with useless stuff before it was completed.

 

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But what happened the other day?

Is a bridge too far.

We woke up, had a lovely breakfast, went outside and saw something on the barn porch. I didn’t think it was a good something…

But the husband dragged it inside before it could run away.

 

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Yeah.

 

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Someone left an old sewing machine.

 

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Complete with original boxes of accessories….

 

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And owners manual… with free mouse turd. Ack!

We have no idea who committed this heinous crime…. but when I find out?

They will feel my wrath.

 

 

The husband needs no help finding old worthless junk!

So please… I beg you.

Bypass our porch and take your crap to the dump next time!

(Though not the one in our town, or any neighboring towns where he’s apt to shop.)