Generational

I was talking to my mother about my blog post about scrounging and finding the perfect pile of wood, only to discover that it was inhabited by rattle snakes. 😟 I concluded by reminding her that my husband and I have found some amazing things over the years.

It turns out, the scrounging bug is not only something passed down to my husband from his family. The story, as my mother tells it, is that when my grandfather was courting my grandmother, he found a bronze statue of Motzart playing the violin. My Grandmother was a violinist, playing in an orchestra in NewYork at the time. He cleaned up the statue and my mother still has it prominently displayed in the front room. It is a magnificent detailed bronze, but he found it in the trash and rescued it. My grandfather was brilliantt with his hands, fabricating all manner of things out of metal and wood. It is impossible today to know what all he did to the statue, but it makes for an interesting story.

In truth it brings home the point that one man’s garbage is another man’s treasure.