Score

'Bring out your dead'.  It's that time again, when the good people of my suburb put their unwanted items for collection by the council.   Many a time have I slowed to a crawl by the verge to peruse for any top finds.  The problem is I'm far too self conscious to get out and start picking over my neighbours' detritis, so have to restrict any hunting and gathering to nightfall or the backstreets.  Not so one of my dear friends, who is out shamelessly combing the streets for the entire week and comes home with some top booty.  She knew I collected mid century European cermics and came over with this ... "isn't this like the stuff you like?"

Oh indeed Mrs.  It is a Bitossi ashtray and would set me back at least fifty bucks were I to acquire it from a dealer. 

And look how well it goes with my other Bitossi.
 

It looks even more at home with a bunch of keys contained within, with a nod to the seventies and some free loving.

Happy days!

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?

Verge Victory

There is surely no thrill so great as a top verge find.  A few times a year our local council collects virtually anything from outside houses, and some wonderful treasures can be found.  I'd just bought a new TV for our soon-to-be-completed studio, and was subconsciously thinking about having to get some sort of unit for it to sit upon.  Which are universally hideous pieces of furniture, I find.

Driving along yesterday I did the old drive-by double take at a pile of teak coloured furniture.  U-turn.  A few broken pieces, around this - what do you know - TV unit.   Lovely simple mid-century styling, and jackpot, it's a Parker.  A helpful jogger helped me heave it into the back the car.  What loot!  What booty!

What is funny is that when I googled 'Parker Furniture History' I found.... Kylie's blog post on the very same topic!  Parker produced iconic top-end furniture in the mid-century decades in Australia.  This dealer has some lovely pieces, price on application.  I'm loving the no price applied my piece.

Isn't she a cracker?!  Some backyard restoration is underway, one small split that needs gluing.   I'll give it a bit of a wax and polish but apart from that leave as is.   Some days life really is worth living.

Provenance

I know there is one forum where I can parade my latest mid-century textile finds, and that is amongst my lovely bloggers.   I've given up anticipating much reception from my family, "yeah that's great Mum, what's for dinner".   This week I've got a few more threads to add to my collection, and they've come from a range of sources.  It's got me thinking about where our treasured finds come from, and if fibres could talk, the stories they would tell.

Verge collections raise a bit of a spike in collection rates.   In the street where my Mum lives three people have died in a row of five houses, in the last six months.  It wasn't looking good for my Dad but moving was not an option.  When we were piling the shed junk on the verge Jim's family three doors down were doing same and I picked up this gorgeous tablecloth.

I just love those fine black lines against the grey and yellow, so fifties.  But I also think about jim sitting on his front verandah, and the not-far-off-condemned condition of his house with the outside loo and limited power supply.

These linen luncheon napkins were an op shop find, 50c each.  There are six, but one is much more faded than the rest.  Why?  Did someone who lived alone use the same one every day for solo civilised lunches?

From the same expedition, this 'bolster case' (now that would have been tres exotic in the sixties) was still in its packet.  That's a long time to keep something in mint condition.  How many linen cupboard sorting sessions saw it put back for another time?

Back to the verge, this sheeting fabric was rescued by a friend who knows I like this stuff.  

And finally a lovely fabric piece bought in a second hand shop.  I tend to think less about provenance for things acquired via the traditional retail channel.  I wonder why that is?

Bring out your dead

It's now seven months since my father passed away, and the council verge collection this time round has meant one thing for my Mum: clearing out his shed.  We had a busy bee (her term, not mine)  today and attacked the shed with gusto.  She had always told him that once he was gone the first thing she would do is a get a skip in.  He joked with her that would be fine, she could put him in that.   Which is funny because my father was a man who never threw anything out.   This was the first corner to be tackled:

A few good tools which will certainly find a new home in my shed, but a lot of very rusty cheap screwdrivers that were past their use by.  That shelf used to be in our living room in the 80's.  Like most sheds, it was the penultimate resting ground for a lot of discarded furniture, before it hits the verge.

See, a paper shopping bag from the 70's.  Remember those?  Oh yes, he kept it all.

This handy appliance shelf never did quite live up to its name, it stayed pristine in the box since it was bought in, judging from the packaging, around 1982.  

Some things survived the firing squad and will live on for another episode in our family life.   This wardrobe was from three houses ago, left by the last owners with cuttings on the inside door from the 50s.  I might do something with that one day.  The CWA cupboard was a verge rescue a few years back, I'm definitely keeping that. 

A few childhood memories were rekindled with some more survivors.  This was my baby bouncer which Grandma enjoyed putting my babies in.

 And in a box of old electricals, my old night light.

This set of scales which I will probably never use, also had to be reshelved.

I wonder what he would have made of it all, the boxes and boxes and more boxes of random nails, wire, string, broken handles, redundant front door bells, cables, castors, etc that are now gone.  I just know next week I'll be trying to fix something and remember the perfect item required for the job, that I recall putting on the verge today.  Isn't that always the way?!