A post on a post? Why not?
You won't want to miss this post . . . I didn't!
Find out why I went dumpster diving for a little piece of history.
It all started when contractors started to demo an old house on our block.
The housing market in Denver has exploded recently and many of these lovely small bungalows
are being scraped down to the ground or are popping their tops to add more square footage.
The next few photos are about five minutes walk from our house in an old neighborhood.
Such a dramatic change.
Usually, a modern structure that doesn't fit with the character of our old neighborhoods
is hastily constructed where a lovely little bungalow once stood.
Or a block of cracker-box "slot" condos that house too many people, increasing traffic
and taking up limited parking spots, changes the vibe of these turn-of-the-century streets.
It makes me sad to see the character of our historic city being overly-modernized,
especially when it happens on my street.
These boxy condos are everywhere you look.
How'd you like to live right next to the new lite-rail/noisy freeway?
So, back to my story.
This pretty Victorian on our street that was being demoed had lovely stained-glass windows
and white columns on the front porch supporting a balcony.
We kept an eye on the pillars the workers had leaned up against the house.
I have been known to "rescue" alley finds
but I restrain myself from actually taking anything from someone's property.
Then came the day when an enormous truck arrived to remove the full construction dumpster.
I watched out my front window as the truck backed up to hook onto the dumpster.
That's when I saw a white column sticking out of the top of the dumpster.
I called Ron and we rushed outside and approached the workers in front of the house.
"Could we have that white post in the dumpster please?" we asked politely.
"Sure, but make it quick before he drives off."
We ran to the truck driver and asked if we could have a minute to rescue the column.
He nodded and said the boss had told him to wait while we got it. Such a nice bossman!
So, we tugged and pulled until we were able to remove the pillar from the dumpster,
thanked the driver, and scurried home with our treasure.
I didn't know what I was going to do with it but not only was it part of our neighborhood history,
it was chippy and white and I loved it. I knew I'd find a home for it somewhere.
Ron set about removing rusty nails from the top.
Inside, I tried it here and there and finally found the perfect spot for it in my "attic" office.
The top piece of the post was missing so I put an old plate on top
and nestled a spider plant on it in front of the window.
That plant has a fun story as well. We were leaving an estate sale and saw a man loading a big spider plant into the back of his truck. That's when I saw a baby spider get torn from the mother plant.
After he left, I ran over and retrieved the little baby from the sidewalk.
I plopped her into a glass of water when we got home and she immediately grew some healthy roots. Now she's potted atop my rescued post and sending out more babies.
So, this story ends well for everyone.
The orphaned spider plant has a home, the rescued post adds a dilapidated grandeur to my office,
and the history of our old neighborhood has been preserved.
The End (or is it?)
***
Linking with:
Shabby Art Boutique, Blue Willow House, Little Farmstead, Dwellings, The Dedicated House,
Between Naps on the Porch, Coastal Charm, Stone Gable, A Stroll Thru Life,
Savvy Southern Style, Designthusiasm, A Delightsome Life, Have a Daily Cup of Mrs. Olson,
21 Rosemary Lane, Petite Haus, French Country Cottage
Linking with:
Shabby Art Boutique, Blue Willow House, Little Farmstead, Dwellings, The Dedicated House,
Between Naps on the Porch, Coastal Charm, Stone Gable, A Stroll Thru Life,
Savvy Southern Style, Designthusiasm, A Delightsome Life, Have a Daily Cup of Mrs. Olson,
21 Rosemary Lane, Petite Haus, French Country Cottage
