When we moved into our house we snickered a bit at the old things that were in it. I mean, not the people, but the things. The wallpaper from the 70's, the original 1960's stove, oven and fridge. The minty green decoration in the bathroom.
They left us a few things: dressers, a bed, some artwork, wine glasses.
My most favourite leftover has been a radio that is quite likely older than I am. They left it on top of the fridge. At night when I am doing the evening dishes I turn it on and listen to the local Christian station. They have good sermons on. I know, I'm turning into my grandmother.
But that's the thing . . . it sounds *exactly* like grandma's radio. Which sat on the top of her fridge. And this radio works great! It's a heavy one, not like the cheap plastic ones you get now with the wimpy little antenna that never works. There isn't even a smidgen of static, just a strong signal.
It makes me think of the cliche, "they don't make things like they used to", which, of course, is only a cliche because of the truth of it. But that's the thing with this house - it is full of older appliances and fixtures that all work beautifully because someone has cared for them. When the stove broke after 20 years they didn't buy a new one - they fixed the old one! Imagine it! When something breaks I'm jumping up and down because wheeeee, I get to buy something new.
I'm turning over a new leaf - looking at my furniture, even the rag-tag, mix-match things I have, I am ok with keeping them around for a while longer.
Okie dokie, need to take a bit of a break from the typing tonight - the kitty is climbing all over my laptop, chasing my fingers. But he's so cute I might keep him around, too.
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