{"id":17551,"date":"2014-06-20T17:51:21","date_gmt":"2014-06-21T00:51:21","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.backwoodshome.com\/blogs\/ClaireWolfe\/?p=17551"},"modified":"2014-06-20T17:51:21","modified_gmt":"2014-06-21T00:51:21","slug":"some-thrift-store-items-are-like-pound-puppies","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/2014\/06\/20\/some-thrift-store-items-are-like-pound-puppies\/","title":{"rendered":"Some thrift-store items are like pound puppies"},"content":{"rendered":"

I know, I know. Don’t remind me. I’m in de-stuffing mode. Just moments ago, it seems, I wrote about<\/a> how burdened<\/i> I feel by all my excess stuff — how utterly, urgently, madly desperate<\/i> I am to rid myself of clutter. Oh, poor, poor, poor pitiful me!<\/i><\/p>\n

Yes, yes, I know I claim to crave some zen-like purity and simplicity of thought and environment.<\/p>\n

Still.<\/p>\n

Some thrift-store items truly are like pound puppies, practically whining and giving that big, sad-eye “Oh, please take me home ’cause I need you so badly!” look. To wit:<\/p>\n

\"WaynesTray-01_062014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

You have to understand. It’s not the trayness of this tray that made me have to give it a home this afternoon. It’s the story<\/i>. <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

I don’t actually know the story. I just know it has one.<\/p>\n

This little tray was made by Wayne. Or “Wayn e.” It says so in pencil right on its back. It was made with minimal skill, using the cheapest materials, and the tile was laid without reference to any sort of spacer or straight edge — though it does show a nice color and design sense.<\/p>\n

I don’t know who Wayn e was or when he labored over his project. But I’m picturing the 1950s. Mosaics were a big craft item back then, and these colors were popular. I’m seeing a boy in Arts & Crafts class or maybe Boy Scouts, painstakingly placing every tile and thinking about how impressed Mom will be when he presents it to her on Mother’s Day or her birthday.<\/p>\n

I’m thinking about Mom, proudly serving iced tea or cake and explaining to guests that her Wayn e made the tray, his very self. The tray has the stains to prove it was well-used and when I spotted it in a corner of the New Life Church thrift store it was covered with the sort of greasy grime that comes only from long exposure in a kitchen.<\/p>\n

I’m thinking about how this cheap, ill-made, very, very precious thing ended up selling for $3 to a curious stranger. Did Mom grow old and die, this cheesy little tray wanted by nobody else in the family? Did Wayn e turn out badly, so eventually nobody wanted this reminder of him around? Did nobody realize this was once someone’s labor of love? Did the tray get shoved into a cardboard box in the garage before a relative in de-cluttering mode thought, “Better to give it to the church than toss it in the trash”?<\/p>\n

I don’t know. I just know that a lot of time, a lot of unskilled care, and a lot of love went into that tray. It deserves a good home.<\/p>\n

I scrubbed it down, bleached out the worst stains, and was going to re-grout it, seal it, and use it for its original purpose. But now I think I’ll just find an attractive chain and a couple of nice-looking hooks and hang it on a wall, as is. The missing and discolored grout somehow add to its charm. Scrubbing out the grime brightened it up, but ironically deprived it of some of its character.<\/p>\n

\"WaynesTray-02_062014\"<\/a><\/p>\n

So yeah, I’m decluttering. But pound puppies just need homes. That’s all there is to it.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I know, I know. Don’t remind me. I’m in de-stuffing mode. Just moments ago, it seems, I wrote about how burdened I feel by all my excess stuff — how utterly, urgently, madly desperate I am to rid myself of clutter. Oh, poor, poor, poor pitiful me! Yes, yes, I know I claim to crave some zen-like purity and simplicity of thought and environment. Still. Some thrift-store items truly are like pound puppies, practically whining and giving that big, sad-eye “Oh, please take me home ’cause I need you so badly!” look. To wit: You have to understand. It’s not<\/p>\n

Continue readingSome thrift-store items are like pound puppies<\/span><\/a><\/div>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[19],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-17551","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous","ratio-natural","entry"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17551","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17551"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17551\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17551"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17551"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.clairewolfe.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17551"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}