This is the face of an abandoned house. It it just across the valley from us, and we realized about a month ago that something wasn't right when two diesel trucks pulled into the property and dismanteled the metal barn and hauled it away. Ian saw the two notices taped to the front door when he was driving by with the dog - it's their ritual.
Ian and Harry went yesterday. The guy thumped on his wife who finally left and still lives in the valley with a friend of ours. They came home with a snow blower for Ian and a barn fan for Harry. No one knows where the guy is. The barn fan works great.
Tom, Carol, Ian and I went this morning. The stench in the garage from rodent messings was potent, plus there was a dead rodent on the step between the house and the garage. Tom and Ian were all about tools. This guy abandoned more than we have ever owned. I can only think that purchase by plastic doesn't hurt. Gwen insists she wants nothing - that she went in one day and took what she wanted, but I found a special order Lenox baby shoe with her daughter's name painted on the toe. I think he never threw a thing away. I also found a box he had saved of school memories. Do I need to tell you about the empty alcohol containers?
Ian is over the moon with this abandoned utility trailer. Please excuse me if I sound voyeuristic, but man oh man, there are things that the bank is going to dumpster and we wouldn't have purchased in the first place. Tom and Ian are going back in the morning for rolls of chain link and field fence.
I was thrilled to find seven pair of blue jeans, clean and still smelling of drier sheets - long tall legs. I found them stuffed in a garbage bag. In the bed corner is a storage thingie for nuts and bolts, all miscellaneous. The box there is taped closed, labeled Match Box car. Grandson Evan scores.
I found these figurines wrapped in mouse-
poopy dishtowels on the garage floor. The doves are Lladro and there are three Hummels. I'm not a collector but I knew what I was seeing. I'm trying to form a story in my head. Gwen doesn't want this stuff and neither did the guy. His mother's stuff?
This nearly new barbeque came home with Ian yesterday. It's much nicer than the one we bought and paid cash for. All the toy trucks Ian dragged home too. He thinks the grandsons will enjoy them next week. I'm trying to get my head around all this stuff that's apparently disposable.
We've wanted and certainly could use a snow blower. Guess what got left behind. Tom is a retired diesel mechanic from the California Highway Patrol and has assured Ian they'll get this running. The two are working out some sort of trade. Boys and trade - Tom's grandson is trading Ian for driving on a stick shift. These boys learn early.
And at the end of the day, there they are - seven pair of jeans. Such a disposable society we live in. Ian and Tom have already set up a time for tomorrow - they want to get the rolls of fencing and who knows what else. I will be attending a watercolor class at Lake Tahoe. I know you're speechless at the waste. I am.
Santa's Weaving Elves
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