Is it my sub-conscious working overtime since in the last year my collection of stuff that people would otherwise discard is growing? Who knows when one might have a need for a lidded plastic bucket or a whatnot. A 16" piece of 2x4? A narrow inflexible wicker basket?
It was overwhelming recently on a visit to the tip to find people had dumped, ready for landfill, items that would make the Staffordshire Hoard look piddling. Keith Arnatt's rubbish dump photo's would be unrecognizable at my local dump full of decent usable furniture. With not even a meagre attempt at disguise, you know - like a broken back, no drawers or badly soiled seat.
We used to have (and still occasionally do) an unspoken policy here that if you no longer wanted a thing you'd put it on the pavement and within minutes someone would take it. My ironing board arrived in that way, not that I ever iron anything but someone might want to when they visit. If on the incredibly rare occasion something is in need of flattening in my home it is neatly folded and sat on.
A younger me never appreciated my Mum's habit of bringing home the most unlikely of finds, ironically thinking they were fit only for a museum (or the rubbish dump). Taste and appreciation strangely grew with age so I find myself busy collecting some of the things she has collected and a lot more besides because they intrigue me and perhaps to save them from extinction/destruction by the toxic seeping waste they might otherwise be languishing next to and/or contributing to.
