…although you will surely question the above statement (aside from the “so-called” bit) after reading this. It will, however, give you a snapshot into how my brain works and my actions follow.
I’m probably just still mourning the passing of Hallowe’en fun…
On Tuesday night, I was sorting through old photos when I found these:
Anyone from Toronto will surely remember the Moose in the City project from the summer of 2000. 326 moose sculptured were scattered throughout the city. This was rather comical for some of us living here at the time… at least, it was for me.
My close friend Mr. Treasures from Trash has a side interest in photography, and at the time made it his ambition to photograph every one of the mooses (meece??). The day these were taken, I accompanied him on the downtown leg of the trek. I bailed on him three or so hours later after number 49 or so that day and headed to the pub.
As harmonious convergences go, on Wednesday when I was at the LYS for the Payday ritual (I was surprisingly abstemious, buying only a copy of Crochet Me), I came across a flyer for the upcoming Moose Show Festival of Fine Craft. I had never heard of this before, and took it as a sign that I should post my very own personal moose photos here.
This led, of course, to thinking about crafts (quelle surprise!)… which led to ruminating about an apartment I had lived in some ten years ago and more. This photo directly followed the moose shots:
A cozy (very cozy indeed) basement apartment. This photo represents about 1/2 the square footage in the place. Seriously. The ceiling was 5’6″ high. This didn’t bother me, but my then boyfriend was six feet tall and couldn’t walk upright in the apartment. Good thing he lived out of town. In other words, rather “bijou”… but the rent was the right price and the landlords were nice.
I lived in this apartment for most of my law school career. While living there,
I made a table with some old tiles my father had gotten as leftovers from a construction job a buddy of his had done (or so he said… but it is entirely possible that they came off the back of some truck. Of course, being in law school I didn’t really want to hear the whole story. I got the table (an IKEA special) for five bucks at a yard sale.
However, the table quite literally did not fit in my apartment, so I couldn’t display it until I moved to Parkdale:
I used this as my main living room table (once I climbed high enough in the world to actually afford a living room) for about eight years. Then, having gotten tired of looking at it and having climbed that little bit further, I bought a living room set. The table lost its legs to another project (a standing chess board, which sadly got broken when someone fell on top of it at a party). Accordingly, its new home is here:
What would I do without a storage room in the building? I’m sure I would have wrecked my back by now taking out all this junk. And junk it is. Whenever I have to make a visit down there (for the odd seasonal item which actually still has utility and value), I wonder what on earth would possess me to hold on to (inter alia) the following:
– two old phones
– an ancient power drill
– some pillows
– cassette tapes (I haven’t had a cassette player for approximately three years)
– a broken dehumidifier
I then think about tossing it all… for about a minute. Then some long lost treasure (such as a metal Player’s cigarette box) catches my eye and I lose all impulse to clean it out, “just in case…” (quotation marks intentional).
The long lost treasure discovery for 30 October 2007 was this:
My father, who was an upholsterer, gave me this some time back. It was a remnant from a job and he noticed the perfect little picture in the centre. So, he mounted it on particleboard and gave it to me.
I had it hanging in my apartment for quite some time. However, it wasn’t really “me” and so it got banished to the storage locker when I moved into this building three years ago.
Now, I’m going to try to jazz up the border and see if that improves my liking of it. Stay tuned.
On my way back up from the storage locker, I had to stop into the laundry room to see if there were any offerings from the Other People’s Junk Goddess. Bonanza!!
Unfortunately, no craftables. However, some excellent books. Four cookbooks!!! (just as I started a cookbook exchange at work in part to rid myself of cookbooks. I guess I can always stick some more in the storage locker.
I shall have to figure out what I can do with that. JJ doesn’t want it, although I think it would look fab on him. He pointed to a rip on the elbow.
You can hardly see it! And now I finally know why I felt compelled to buy that bag of leather scraps last month… which is lost somewhere in the stash room at present. Maybe I can replicate this, for example:
(A fab 70s leather jacket which I scored on Roncesvalles some years back for $10.00! The lable says “Aegean Leather – Styled in Paris” – does this actually mean “Made in Taiwan?” Hmm…) I guess this is why I bought that bag of leather scraps last month from Perfect Leather, which at present resides under the computer desk! Everything happens for a reason…
(I can hear JJ sighing loudly next to me. He must know what I’m writing about…
JJ is not a big fan of the Treasures from Trash school of thought [although he did enjoy the picture book of London and the “Wok With Yan” book I scored in this haul]. This is perhaps understandable as he grew up during war time with older siblings and perhaps did not own anything new until he started to work. Good thing he hasn’t figured out where all those Eddie Bauer sweaters I have so lovingly gifted him actually come from!)
This is one of the works in progress – a blanket made out of a long-abandoned sweater back (entrelac seed stitch argyle – what the hell was I thinking!). Using up worsted/aranweight wools from the scrap pile.