Repurpose, reimagine, rebrand. I’m sick, sick of it. We started with recycle back in the 70′s and it works just fine for me, thank you very much. Also, I know what you’re thinking – “geez, she’s been gone for a while, and now that she’s back, she still has issues.” You bet I have issues! I have issues with waste, along with society’s sense of entitlement that is so prevalent lately.
Now back to our discussion of recycling. My dear garbage picking husband loves to “recycle”. He’s not a junk collector or anything; he’s a picker of truly fine items that people, who are obviously more well healed than we are, no longer desire. He has a gift for this, which I must admit, I don’t always see. Every once in a while he has some cloudy vision and it requires a trip back to the dump. I haven’t told him yet, but our new dump rules don’t allow pickers in the metal pile. I’m trying to find a time to break this news to him gently, perhaps with a glass of wine at the ready.
Well, when we were building our house, we needed a basic functional metal door for our basement access that was going to get a lot of use. We figured we’d go cheap and replace it later. So we headed to a discount builder’s supply warehouse and got a good quality door for cheap. It was my hope to replace it with a door with a window to bring some light into that area of the basement. As life would take us, our son needed to live with us for a short time while moving back East – with his dog. So we quickly finished a room that was already in progress for him in the basement – that ugly door would be his entrance. No time to replace it, so I painted it and it did look pretty good, but the space was still dark. He referred to that room as the “dungeon”. Now several years later, it truly was time to replace that door. We priced doors which caused the old one to grow more attractive even sans the window. Yes, I truly wanted that window, however, my desire to keep my savings account in tact was greater. (I’m cheap)
Enter the garbage picker. I usually accompany my husband on his dump runs to avoid unnecessary “finds”, but on this particular day, I was tied up. I heard him yell from the garage, “Come on down here and see what I found at the dump.”. There in the back of his truck was this dented, several times painted, door in its frame. I told him to get back in the truck and return it. He said he had a plan, and his friend Victor, who ran the dump, said we could “return” the door when we were done with it. I told him that we WERE done with it. My dear husband made this proposal: he was going to remove the beautiful leaded glass insert, cut a hole in our old door, and put in the glass. He said if it didn’t work, we would have to get a new door (obviously), so I would get a door with a window either way. He sure knows how to play me. Well, it didn’t turn out half bad as you can see. We saved a bundle and I have a lot more light in the basement.
Have I ever mentioned my brick project? I make these bricks for burning out of recycled newspaper with this brick maker I got from Lehman’s. My husband thinks I’m crazy. We all have a differing views of crazy.