Confession: when I go with my uncle to take consignments for the auction I have to leave my wallet at home. I have an addiction. I’m a junk junky. o
Sometimes, even without my wallet I frequently come home to my bursting apartment (I’m not quite being scouted for the tv show “Hoarders” but it gets close sometimes). Occasionally I use the Wimpy (the Popeye cartoon character) approach “I’ll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today”. If it’s a really special item – and I’ll share a hilarious story in an upcoming post – my darling uncle buys it for me.
In this case, our friend John, who buys and sells out of a commercial storage locker, as well as an antique mall booth and a portion of a new antique store, gave me a handful of leftover tins. I wouldn’t have bought them all – there are some American tins and I only collect Canadian and Irish-theme tins.
This blog is as much about landfill reduction as demonstrating value (historic or commercial) in items that some people would throw away, so John’s gift was a challenge.
This random collection of antique and vintage tins contains a couple of Canadian tins that will join my collection and the rest I’m going to use for gift-giving.
Mid-summer gardens are flower-filled and blogland is full of posts of unconventional items to use as vases. Second nature to this junkaholic.
A “welcome to the neighbourhood” gift for a new neighbor who has a potted garden, a few thank yous for dinners and drinks and garden plants, and in no time I’ve checked off a number of names on that perpetual gift list I keep in my head.
I’ll be honest. A couple I’m going to de-plant and send off to friends and contacts who might enjoy additions to their own collections. Thoughtfulness, ingenuity or collect-it-forward sooo outrank a price tag when it comes to gift-giving.