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Saturday, January 14, 2012

I'm A Junker Not a Junkie

The exhilaration of the search, the thrill of the find.  Roadside, garage sale, thrift shop, antiques, yes, my friends, I'm a junker.

I love the musty smell of old stuff worn with pride and ready to come home to be loved once again.  I love building a home with pieces and parts from far and wide.  It's like a puzzle that I put together over and over again with new ideas and new finds until a new scene forms each time.

It's not for everyone, this junker life.  Mismatch makes some twitch a bit.  I've seen people walk into my house and look around with that "look".  One person said to me, "Where do you find all this stuff?" with an air of WTH?  That's okay, I love my less than unified work in progress.

I love putting things together that give me such joy and cost me so little.  I thought I'd share a little of my junk with you here.  Remember, I'm a junker, not a junkie.  Careful, that's how rumors get started.

My bedroom is finally starting to come around to a place I love.  It was lost and lonely for awhile but I had some successful junk missions this summer that have started to fill in the blanks.

The tree in the corner has been around awhile.  My dad was trimming some "brush" behind his house and I marveled at how clean and straight and beautiful the pieces he was burning were.  So I loaded some up, brought it home and cemented it into a pot that I dropped into a wicker basket.  My husband just shook his head when we moved and I told him to be careful with my "tree".

The frame above the bed was Pepto Bismal pink a few months ago hanging in the girls room.  I needed a larger frame for the picture I found at a flea market and the size was just right.  So I plucked it off her wall and headed to the driveway with some paint and glaze to experiment with the color until it was just right.

My book table was a happy accident.  The top was from a beautiful antique table I had purchased years ago and in a moment of complete "stupid" I tried to stand on it to fix a curtain rod.  It shattered and I fell.  Not my best day.  I first stomped it out to the fire pit in frustration. I didn't actually light it.  It laid there in the rain for several days.  Then one morning laying in bed it hit me.  I could still use the top!  I sent my son out to retrieve it.  I told him to "hurry" and go get it which he found ridiculous because it had laid there for days.  Logic isn't a part of a junkers first thought.  I sanded it and refinished it and apologized to it for my anger and haste in casting aside it's beauty.  Then I gathered all of my books from various boxes and bookshelves, removed their little jackets and stacked and stacked until I had the right height.  Ta Da.  New table.

My only real splurge are the Pottery Barn lights hanging on each side of the bed.  Because some things you just gotta have. 

So if you see me beside the road struggling to load something into my truck, you'll know I'm having a really exciting day and another piece of the puzzle is about to come "home".