A Hoarder's Vindication

We really do need that stuff we're hoarding and here's why.

It began last year with the adventure that was the thrice-picked pile. You can read about that HERE if you're inclined to read about my penchant for going back repeatedly to the scene of previous junk "crimes".

Some drawers came home with me that day to grace our space. There was a variety of loot destined to become much needed parts for future projects... I was sure of it.

A hoarder's vindication was born

The hoard of which I speak was merely in its infancy then. The new wood drawers, cabinets and doors were even still in the house working their way into visions of grandeur.

Such exciting visions last until the cries and groans from the family kick in and a new less appealing phase is born. This usually occurs within the hour. 

"Where can I store all this?"

I silently study the mess that I've wrought, all the while assuring my family (in confident, uplifting tones) that this is true treasure, purposeful and cool, and that it will find its way to places discreet until such a time as its reason for existance is fully realized.

There seem to be differing ideas about what "discreet" means. My definition includes something about not having it in my living area. In order to honor my word, I would have to live on the couch because that's about the only living area without stuff on it.

During the coarse of the year past, some of those drawers I brought home made their way to the semi-garage, and one was out back in this lovely pile behind my house where it got buried with all the other scraps. That drawer front had a little key lock on it and the others had no hardware and no holes at all, just plain wood with a nice edge to them. Their edges were beveled and tiered, making them prime goods for something - some day.

Fast forward to about a month and half ago. This beauty was discovered sticking out from a curbside pile of random garbage, legs up, with only it's casters there to catch my eye as it sent out a signal of distress.

A little worse for wear, but oh, so cute. It stole my heart before I could even yank it out from under the trash heaped upon it. Once home, it was obvious that the lock hinges and the broken wood that had once been part of the table top were incomplete, broken and had to be removed. Too bad. So it promptly sat without a top or a finish; it's soul bare to the elements via it's place up against the windows on my back patio.

Meanwhile, one day recently, while I was in the mood to purge all useful but superfluous items that had not yet fulfilled my visions of grandeur, I began scouring my stash for something I might discard, thereby creating the impression to myself and family that I am cleaning things up and clearing out. Bulky and obnoxious drawers were on my hit list. There were maybe 4 or 5 in a little storage area I have. Of course, I could only force myself to part with two. My purge was lame. A couple of the drawers were moved out to the back patio with the thinking that I could make signs or something of their fronts and finally do something with the boxes left over once the fronts came off. 

Besides, rearranging junk always gives new hope that it might be useful some day.

I tore those drawers apart, laying the fronts atop the little cart thinking they would make a perfect top if only I had one more to serve as a middle piece. I had a piece of the original top to the cart (shown in the middle above), but it's edge was different and it was a bit longer than the other drawer fronts. It just wouldn't work. Disappointment marred the day. So close and yet so far. I thought of all kinds of rigs for the top, but to no avail.

And then it happened. This week I went out back with every intention of starting to paint the cart, thinking I would just compromise and use old fence wood or something else for the top. I stood staring, hoping answers to style dilemmas would come. While lamenting the lack of the final drawer front I needed for the middle, I went to look at what other scraps I might have in the stash around the corner at the back of the house. 

All I did was glance over at the same pile I see daily, and there it was, right where it had been all along (for a year, having been moved around the pile a few times, of course.) Another skinnier drawer that went with the others was lying right in front of me on the top of the pile... hidden in plain view, all because of the lock it had on it. Woo hoo!

This meant my project was no longer stalled! I whooped it up and was back in business. Everything needed to finish the cart was within reach, except color decisions of course. Blue, green and aqua shades were tested on the back side of the newly found wood to see which might work or whether more than one shade would do the trick, perhaps each color on a different piece of the drawer front tops.

In the end, I was not willing to take color chances with my little cart. I was going to get busy and get done pronto. 

Having found a yellow cabinet door in the trash that morning, I was inspired to paint my cart yellow too. Forget my recent raspberry and aqua phases, I was moving on to subtle yellow.

The cart received it's first coat of paint - white over all, so that some of that would show through if it ended up distressed. Plus that way I could see if I was going to fall in love with it in its white stage.


I did not. White felt cold and this little beauty needed a sunny, warm and inviting, and more personable disposition to start its new life. The lock stayed for a while and I considered leaving it for a quirky ode to the nature of it's humble beginnings (and because I couldn't get it off easily.) But it needed to go, and the hole needed to be patched.

That's all there was to it. That and numerous hours of painting, sanding, waxing and then hammering the boards to the top.


Once the paint was on, the perfect knob was a no brainer. It was just waiting in my stash for such a moment to shine. (It's not a bad idea to have a good assortment of cute knobs on hand.)

It stinks to finish a day of work on a piece of furniture only to be missing just the right knob. Who wants to wait to add that final touch of pretty because you have to go hunting for one at the store. This one came from Anthropologie. It makes a great accent with all sorts of pieces.

Vindicated again in regard to knob hoarding!

 
So the little cart has been lifted from the land of the broken and naked. The black flower design on the knob speaks to the black wheels, and dark nails were used to attach the top pieces.


Now it's a cute little number that looks irresistible carting around all sorts of goodies of many colors and styles.


My Anthropologie jars wanted to meet up with the Anthropologie knob and reminisce about the good old days back at the store.


Milk and Cream heard about the patio photo shoot and came out to see how it would pair with the little cart. Quite well, don't you think?

So I finished the daylight hours sitting and reading and pausing to ponder the scene before me which was the work of my hands, not to mention the work of God's hands in the beauty of his creation in my back yard, all the while listening to the varied birdsongs serenading me as the mosquitos did their treacherous work at my ankles and arms. It was a fine way to end the day, with a finished project and beautiful scenery around me.

One cart down, two barstools to go. I'll show you what I did with these gray curbside barstool finds next.

For the moment, I'm just happy to say I feel vindicated in my hoarding. Let the record show that I DID need those drawers I brought home and stored all year as well as that knob.  If only I could shorten the time the salvaged wood and stuff lies in the junk pile. I'm working on it.

Onward and upward. 

One more project down...and more than I care to admit to go!

Stop by these fun link parties this week and see what's up: