That would be me and my mum! And boy oh boy! Did we earn this title today!
It all started with this very unprepossessing drawer. We brought it home last night. It came from a dresser that was lying on its back, in the dark, on the side of the road. We had to bring the drawer home. We couldn’t tell what era the dresser was, how well it had been made, nor what sort of wood it was. Now the drawer mightn’t look much to you, dear reader, but to me and my mum it looked more than promising. Lovely solid wood, a good old fashioned construction, and as sturdy as, with the sort of reinforcing that speaks of a craftsperson who wanted that to which this drawer belongs to last a long while.
So, first thing this morning, we went back. Of course we went back.
The first time we went back with a bag of tools, prepared to pull the dresser apart and shove it into the back of the car piece by piece. See, we’d forgotten about the drawer’s sturdiness with it’s reinforcing. This dresser was not coming apart at all. Nor would it fit into the car.
So we had to go back again … with the trolley.
That’s right. We took the fridge trolley (I knew it was a good investment Jules!) and despite moments of doubt, regular collapses into hysterical laughter, and cheered on by the helpful interventions of many lovely folk along the way, we wheeled this lovely old kitchen dresser all the way home. Almost two kilometres. Along a path that included a RAILWAY CROSSING, several traffic lights and two sets of tram tracks.
This is why we are THE MOST DOGGED HARD RUBBISHERS EVER!
A lovely young man with long curly locks and a skateboard stopped to help us wedge the dresser onto the trolley, and I swear, if he hadn’t been on his way to classes at a nearby university, he would have wheeled the dresser home for us, so impressed was he with our hard rubbishing spirit.
Whilst he was wriggling the dresser into position, a beautifully dressed woman, walking to the station, stopped for a chat, told us how she’d admired the dresser the day before, agreed with us that it was too nice and sturdy to leave on the side of the road, expressed how marvellous it was someone was giving it a new home, and wished us the best of luck on our trek.
Then, before we reach the afore mentioned railway crossing, a young man, tending to a very posh garden, dropped his tools and dashed out to us to “fix” the positioning of the dresser on the trolley. “No! No! No!” he cried cheerfully, “Let me make this easier for you!” and proceeded to flip the whole thing upside down.
So funny lovely. I do find that when you let go of the ordinary and expected, when you’re not afraid to look a bit peculiar, oh the lovely people you meet :-)
This is what it looked like arriving at the railway crossing – lots of steep and narrow gutters to navigate with an exceptionally heavy trolley and its dresser. Eeeek!
The other way … completely inhospitable. We stood there a good long while contemplating our next move. Oh how we giggled and shrieked and plotted, whilst many a driver-by stared at the two weird women with the dresser on the trolley.
However, we gathered our nerves and decided that it was best to walk/push briskly across the road whilst the boom gates were down. There’s no pedestrian crossing on that section, but with the boom gates down, there ain’t no cars going in any direction. It took us three trains to feel prepared enough. The fourth time those gates came down, we hot footed it across, jelly legs and all, Mum pushing, me steering, both of us hoping for the longest train crossing ever.
And it worked! Only then we discovered the narrowest bit of footpath in the whole suburb and had to shove the dresser through it sideways/lengthways. Much to the bemusement and worry of a fellow who actually stopped his car and got out to help – telling us we would never get it home sideways like that. So, once through the squeeze, he helped us shuffle the dresser back into the gardner’s more sensible position and we demonstrated our previous pushing prowess – he was suitably impressed. Well sort of :-)
Ah look! Here we are at the last set of lights. Feeling as if we were on the homeward run. I stepped back to take a photo … and the dresser blew over. Yep – that was another moment of hysteria and leg crossing. And another lovely young passerby stopped to ask if she could help :-) I tell you, wobbling home a huge antique kitchen dresser on wheels is a good way to gauge community spirit.
Finally, it was through the gate and down the drive. Not before another sweet young fellow – dreadlocks, cigarette, headphones and all – stopped and asked if we needed a hand. When we explained this was actually the end of our trek, he was so tricked, wanting to know all about it. I tell you – hard rubbish brings folk together.
So here it is! Sitting neatly up against the house, the eaves protecting it from any rain that may come this way – this is Melbourne, the rain never falls heavy enough to wet under the eaves.
And what are we going to do with it, you may ask? Well … it’s not quite decided yet. Mum would like to take it home and put it in her downstairs room as a bookcase and fabric storage dresser. But there’s the s*l*i*g*h*t problem of getting it there. Wheeling it to Merimbula is obviously out of the question.
So I reckon it will probably stay here for now and become part of MY fabric storage. And then, when we Boots make that move to the coast in a few years time, it will come with us, all nicely restore and polished, and maybe it will finally reach Mum’s downstairs room. Or it may move into our Merimbula kitchen as a pantry – now I think that role would truly make this dresser happy.
As for this here chair? We left it there. There’s a limit to how many armchairs one needs. Even I can see that :-) But we did test it. You can never be too sure … and if you would like it, drop me an email and I’ll let you know where it is!