You know you have a keeper when...

I'm just popping my head up for air, as I've got a week of Prac next week in Pemberton District High School and don't have a million chapters of reading to get done, and figured it has been a month since I posted - and I know I've been neglectful. Needless to say, it is a hard slog, this post grad study thing. How the guys and gals in my class are managing this with kids and or a job, I have no idea. I'm just getting by day-by-day.

But I thought I'd share a little story with you - one that some will understand and others will shake their head to.

My new man - Clinton - certainly knows the way to my heart. Not only does this man understand and support my need to rummage through other people's trash, but he whole-heartedly supports this addiction and encourages it every step of the way. My heart was set aflutter mid-week, when I was advised there was a "present waiting for me - and it is at the Balingup rubbish tip". Better still, is when he says that he couldn't bring it home earlier because it was too heavy for him to lift into the ute (translation: pick-up) alone.

The mind boggles! What could this possibly be? Will I have to smile politely and tell him I love it, while plotting ways to dispose of it without him finding out? or will I have to put up with some monstrosity in my house for a suitable period of time before off-loading it to some worthy cause? You see, at such an early stage, I wasn't convinced that he understood my likes and dislikes all that well.

So off to the tip we go. Me - rehearsing in my head the "surprised, feigned happy lines" and him with a smug little smile.

A nod to the care-taker, and through the gate we go. And a little beauty just like this was waiting for me...



Yes - a vintage washing machine in really good condition. Although mine is a lovely sage green colour.

Now at this point I figure I better give an explanation on what I want to use this beauty for. No - I have no intentions of trading in my 21st century automatic toploading washing machine for this little vintage contraption more at home in my grandmothers era - sorry Gran! No I've got plans to use Clinton's technical expertise (and workshop) to remove the motor, the agitator and all the oil and muck on it. Then I'm going to turn it into a mobile planter. I haven't decided yet whether I want herbs, petunias or pansies to start with - or strawberries, a fern or some other drapey green something-or-other. Can't you just imagine it - by the back door in the sun. My green beauty - put to good use again.

Aaaahhhhh! Ain't love grand!