stuff in dirt . . .

Today was the first day we've had a chance to work outside in the sun, and may be the precursor to abandoning interior work for a while. We had some small unblogworthy projects to do (garden fencing to try and protect our mini-orchard from our crazed-red-fence-eating-monster, and pre-painting some new fascia boards). Now I know I've claimed that despite our blog name, there's been no buried treasure here, and that's a bit misleading. On the contrary, for every pound of buried trash we pull out;

broken toilets and sinks
galore and chunks of concrete
and ruined buckets

the innards of a waterbed
performing "erosion control"

countless rusty cans . . .

a bathroom's worth of baby
blue tile

what we thought was a big hill: just trash . . .

we find one shard of buried treasure . . .

original green Cambridge fireplace tile (we're
missing two original fireplaces)

original subway tiles (there's none left in the house)
and oddly, a pool chemical testing kit (there are no pools in the area)

solid aluminum mold, possibly of Taft or Cleveland
if anyone has an idea of what this is I'd be forever in your debt

Of course what we consider treasure may be a little atypical, and I've learned that if I gleefully call someone and brag, they may not exactly "get it." It does mean that every plant we put in the ground turns into a carefully organized archaeological dig, and renting a metal detector is certainly in the future (it was my iou birthday present to the trained monkey this year).

All this to say, I'm sure with the mention of buried treasure my little house blog will continue to climb the rankings and infuriate those searching for the actual Queen Anne's Revenge. I'm sure all you bloggers that post about "stripping" will understand. In the meantime, enjoy the blue skies . . .