So…if you haven’t read this, please go ahead and do so. I’ll wait.
As I'm sure you all noticed, either just now or previously, this was my tribute to Mr. Always Random and why he is the best….long story short: he brings me trash he finds at job sites that he knows I’ll love.
What girl WOULDN'T love that, right?
And I do love.
I did love it.
Ok, ok, I won’t lie… I still love it. But I am beginning to believe I may have created a monster.
It is a case of “if a little is good then a lot is better.”
Let me break it down for you. But before you begin, please begin playing this music: it's only audio so no need to watch. It will accompany your reading, I assure you:
So last week, Mr. AR brought me some more bottles.
I am especially fond of the one with the wider mouth...we know that it is a 1920's Heinz Horseradish bottle.
And also the "Little Bo-Peep Ammonia" bottle.
Oh, I love them all…who am I kidding?
And then later in the week, I received a text with a photo attached.
The text read: This is going to look great in our front garden!
Me: Yeah, at our new house?
Mr. AR: No, our current.
Me: Um no rusty tractor in this front yard. When I can have chickens you can have a rusty tractor.
Mr. AR: It’s a horse-drawn manure spreader.
Me: Ok even better. ..and you can have it when I can have chickens :)
I assumed that the discussion was over…because I said “no” quite frankly.
A couple hours later, I received an email with a link to this photo: This is what it looked like at one time.
Me: Cool, but you’re still not selling me on it.
That night, he brought home this piece of it:
And the next day he brought home this:
And so now instead of having a whole manure spread in my front garden, I have a piece of it sitting on the front of my cabinet with my salt & pepper shakers.
In my kitchen.
And there’s talk of one of the wheels being schlepped home as well. Which will need to find a home somewhere.
So today he brought home more bottles. One of them is a 1940’s Coke Bottle (as evidenced by the markings on the bottom), and some others we haven’t had the opportunity to research as of yet.
They are, at present, soaking in a bin of their own filth (as an aside, this is much like a person taking a bath, which is why I do not take baths…).
But all this to say…I’m a little worried about my husband. Or as you may otherwise know him: Sanford.
NOTE: I am telling you all this tongue-in-cheek. I really do love my husband and all his sweet gifts. I am actually thrilled to bits that he is finding an interest in treasures from days gone by. I have always loved this type of "junk" and it's quite enjoyable to witness his new found passion. Mr. AR, if you're reading this: Don't stop bringing me things you find in the dirt!