In the blood

I wrote last about our experience at the swapmeet, in an attempt to relieve our home of a slither of the pile of vintage tatt I've spent (happy) years collecting.   I've vowed, no more opshopping.  Or maybe just a remission.

The lady over the road died last year and a new guy, Colin, has moved into her house.  It is a fantastic mid century 60s house with basement carport, lots of built in teak cabinets and wood pannelling.  He's a nice enough guy but has no appreciation of the period details that I love and is gradually 'modernising' it, perish the thought.  He's starting with replacing all the bakelite light switches. 

We've just had our regular council verge collection, or  'bring out your dead' as I like to call it.   I had to stop when I came home the other day via Colin's house and noticed these canisters he was in the process of putting on the verge.

Colin!  Those are collectable!  I said, followed quickly with the assurance that of course I don't covet things like that and would not be requiring them.  But I do have a friend who might like them.  That will be my alter ego that still can't overide vintage scavenger gene.

Well, there is a  bit of space up in the loft now, so maybe I can just find somewhere to stash them.  Interestingly, of the selection of things that we did actually get rid of at the carboot was four cannisters very similar to this.

And when I got the home and gave them a clean... what do you know, a bonus unopened bag of flour.   Can the day get any better?

1 comment:

  1. If I were Colin's neighbor, I'd be checking his trash several times a day! :) Those canisters are great!


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