|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|
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 . . .