I once flatted with an Irish guy in West London whose hobby was to neck as many pints as he could afford and then indulge in a spot of dumpster diving on the way home.
We would often wake on a Saturday morning to all manner of flotsam and jetsam in the hallway - including, one particularly memorable time, a stuffed (fake) elephant head that was as almost as big as our living room. We figured it must have been a prop from the BBC TV studios down the road.
That memory reached across the years to me last night when I was walking Bristol and spotted this very cool old hospital trolley in the dumpster across the road. Of course I asked the owners if I could have it and then roped the Animator into trying to drag it out in the dark and rain. He wasn't impressed, especially when it turned out to be too wedged in by other crap to be easily retrieved. It was with a heavy heart that I admitted defeat and went home.
Today, the owner texted me to say her father would fish it out for me. Which he kindly did. So when I got home there it was. All it needs is a bit of a clean and the top shelf popped back in and I have myself a fabulous vintage trolley.
Now I just need to decide whether to keep it here or truck it up to the bach. First world dilemmas.
And I must take the owner a good bottle of red too.
Doing the happy dance today. Speaking of dance, we are off the the opening night of the Royal NZ Ballet's performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream tonight. Gotta love those media tix.
We would often wake on a Saturday morning to all manner of flotsam and jetsam in the hallway - including, one particularly memorable time, a stuffed (fake) elephant head that was as almost as big as our living room. We figured it must have been a prop from the BBC TV studios down the road.
That memory reached across the years to me last night when I was walking Bristol and spotted this very cool old hospital trolley in the dumpster across the road. Of course I asked the owners if I could have it and then roped the Animator into trying to drag it out in the dark and rain. He wasn't impressed, especially when it turned out to be too wedged in by other crap to be easily retrieved. It was with a heavy heart that I admitted defeat and went home.
Today, the owner texted me to say her father would fish it out for me. Which he kindly did. So when I got home there it was. All it needs is a bit of a clean and the top shelf popped back in and I have myself a fabulous vintage trolley.
Now I just need to decide whether to keep it here or truck it up to the bach. First world dilemmas.
And I must take the owner a good bottle of red too.
Doing the happy dance today. Speaking of dance, we are off the the opening night of the Royal NZ Ballet's performance of A Midsummer Night's Dream tonight. Gotta love those media tix.
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