Do you have friends who give you really cool gifts?
The kind that you didn't really even that know you needed?
Like these "wheels" that recently found their way to me via my friend, Paulie, the scrap metal dealer,
or these pallets (and three bags full of rusty nails) that came from my friend, Pete, who works at our local, family-owned, hardware store?
Kinda cool, huh?!
To me, the only thing better than finding this stuff myself, is having a whole bunch of friends who find stuff for me. It's like having a whole team of junk talent scouts.
I don't know about you but this is how my brain works when people give me gifts like iron wheels and pallets.
There was a period of about fifteen minutes where the wheels almost ended up a mason jar light fixtures.
If it were Spring, I'd probably be sharing a cute fixture with candles in mason jars held on by silver clamps all around the outside edge of the wheels.
But it's not. It's Autumn. And to me, Autumn means Harvest Cart.
Poor light fixtures, they never really stood a chance.
Amazingly, the "cutouts" from where I formed the handles were the right length to become the supports for the wheels. I could tell you that I planned it that way, but that would be a lie.
It was luck. It was...
wait for it...
it was Serendipity (Aw, comeon! You should know by now that sometimes I can't resist!)
When it was finished, I wheeled the cart to the walk near the front door (marveling, the entire time that the wheels didn't fall off!) and filled it with "harvest".
The kind of "harvest" that a gal living in the suburbs can find on a Sunday afternoon in early September.
The kind that can be left in a cart on the front walk for the next couple of months without turning to mush
...or being pillaged by animals.
Except for these animals.
They really don't seem to be the pillaging type and they do seem to be enjoying life on the front walk.
I'm certain that it's a welcome break after having spent the summer on the asphalt driveway
but concrete chickens are tough to read sometimes.
They don't seem to show a lot of emotion.
Who knows, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe they're be miserable.
Whatever the case, I'm not moving them.
So, unless they learn to walk, they're staying put until November when I move them to the garage for the winter.
Now, when I look out of my front door, I'm reminded harvest time.
A really abundant harvest...
of cool junk...
...from my even cooler friends.
Oh, and I'm able to keep an eye on the chickens...that, too!
I'm sharing this post at:
At The Picket Fence
French Country Cottage
From My Front Porch to Yours
In the Old Road
Miss Mustard Seed
Primitive and Proper
Sand and Sisal
Savvy Southern Style
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