I am on a one-woman mission to rescue what I call "vintage treasures" and what my husband calls "all that crap crowding the house." In fact, just yesterday, he threatened an intervention. But do you want to hear something so astounding, so unbelievable that you'll be up nights wondering at it? When people don't pay the property taxes on houses and buildings they own and those said places become so derelict as to be put on the city's demolition list, those buildings are razed to the ground without a thought for what might be in them. Yes, some of them are empty or contain nothing more exciting than possum poop. And others... well others belonged to somebody's mother who died and their children took what they thought was worth something and the rest just sat there. Tchotchkes collecting dust but otherwise aging quite well without anyone fiddling with them. Fabric doesn't age as well but the rest... Or the barns and outbuildings with doodads that nobody knows what the heck they are but they sure look cool on your wall. Anyway, I was shocked. Still haven't figured out what can be done about it.
And so I make myself feel better by going to church garage sales where other little old ladies are more than happy to send their stuff home with me. Where they are tickled when I say I love things "with character" or that I was born in the wrong generation. Or maybe they are just happy to have someone appreciate all the crap crowding their house.
