Confession: (This is it. If you are still with me, hooray for you and me!) I stole some chairs from another neighbor the other day.
Well, TECHNICALLY it wasn't stealing. The chairs were sitting near...very near, almost touching...his trash can and a dead plant that was there on the side of the road. I am certain they were intended to go out with the trash....
I knocked on his door. He did not answer. He is also our A/C man, so I have his work phone number saved on my phone. But I did not call him. No sense in bothering him about such a silly little thing. I KNOW he intended for them to be sent to the awful little landfill where they will take 1000 years to disintegrate because they are plastic resin, and if DIAPERS take a long time, just IMAGINE 9 Adirondack chairs. Yes, my friend, I said NINE.
The other thing I must confess is that I embarrassed Emily. You know, she is my driver (dang wonky hippocampus), and I made her pull over and wait while I looked at them and knocked on the door and looked out for neighbors who may be filming me. SHE should have been the look-out, but she was laying down in the front seat and therefore did not have a good angle.
As soon as I decided I was going to be bold and rescue-the-chairs-from-the-landfill, it started raining. I knew the chairs would not all fit in the van. I was forced to call my husband and tell him about my rescue mission, and ask him to bring the truck so we could load them up. I encouraged him to hurry due to my high profile in the neighborhood.
Well, I was afraid to get back in the van because, folks, NINE chairs on the side of the road is the sort of thing that is going to attract THOSE PEOPLE who take things from the side of the road and make beautiful, new looking things out of them. With Anne Sloan paint, usually. So, I stood out in the rain beside the chairs. At one point, one of Emily's friends stopped to see if we were okay. Emily looked at her like “you know my Mama's got a wonky hippocampus, right?” but she just told her we were fine, that Michael was on his way.
When Michael drove up, he realized we were at Mr. A/C's man's house. He said, “Good grief, Vicky, could you maybe recycle something that maybe the previous owner won't SEE this summer?”, and started loading them up. He said, “Do you want this dead plant, too?”, all snarky and such. “No” said I. “Plants disintegrate in landfills”. (I probably should have took the plastic pot it was in to fully cover my tracks about the landfill rouse, but I didn't think about it in time.
So, without further adieu, I present some of my new chairs:
These are, obviously, just 4 of the nine. One was a cream color, and it went on my back porch. Three were green, and two of those went on my front porch. Another was broken. It went on the street.
And I thought this one was just a sad little chair, headed to the landfill...(I can't save them all...you know that story about the starfish? Well, Google it. I have rambled enough...)
But, it was saved by a man in a little white Toyota truck with a Mississippi license plate number...He looked to be about 60 years old...5"9 or so...blue work shirt and blue jeans...
What, you think I was not looking out of my window when he stopped to get it?? I am the Neighborhood Watch President. It's what I do.
~love and joy, y'all!
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