Do you have a few minutes to chat? I hope so; I just made myself a cup of coffee so I hope you’ll grab one and we can get together for a few minutes.
I recently had an experience I would truly love to share with you. As you know, I am a widow and in saying that there appears to be a lot to learn. I didn’t realize that “widow lessons” would be helpful but truly as we face some of the things for the first time it would be nice to have some free advice.
I have decided it is time to start to clean out the basement! Now my husband’s workshop for me is like stepping into a foreign country. There are boxes of nails, screws, tools, rusty things, old faucets, and more keys than there are locks in the house. Adding to this, tucked safely underneath his workbench was a very large can full of little blobs of metal. Now I realize my description is not helpful but that is because I have no idea what these little metal pieces were ever used for but the proper authorities, (meaning a couple of his friends said basically this was scrap metal).
Now, being a clever little person (and I use the term loosely); if this is scrap metal then I should take it to the scrap yard. Thanks to the handy dandy phone book and map quest my destination was in sight and all that was left was for me to gather up the contents and go. My first problem arose when I could not lift the can off of the floor and now some of the contents were on the floor. Okay, not being a quitter, I knew I had to empty the can to the point where it could be lifted without fear of a double hernia. Second problem; what do I use to dump these little gems into? There was some old cloth bags lying around which took some of them but there were still oodles and no other suitable containers. This was easy; I marched to the Dollar Store and bought some bright green kid’s sand pails with the cute little white shovel attached. Home I came and happily filled my buckets, loading them carefully into the car. Oh now I was on a roll!
Wednesday rolled around (my writing class) and I dressed appropriately for my class but I fear not quite so appropriately for the scrap yard!
I was not deterred and pulled into the yard with a smile on my face and went into the building telling the woman my whole story (of which she was not terribly interested). She explained I should drive onto the little bridge, stop, wait for the green light, drive to the piles of scrap, dump my contents, repeat the process on my return and come into the building. She would have weighed my car in both directions and thus my million dollars would be handed to me.
Apparently, a little old lady in dressy clothes and shoes carefully carrying little green buckets back and forth to dump onto old refrigerators, grates, mufflers etc was not the norm. I held my head up high; they wouldn’t be laughing when I left with my money.
I finished my project, returning to the building with a sweaty but smiling face. I filled out paperwork before receiving my funds waiting patiently for my windfall.
Well, my friends, the lovely lady handed me $5.85 and my little green buckets cost me over $6.00! I went home that night knowing two things. It takes a lot of scrap to get rich and I bet the guys in the scrap yard had a pretty funny story to tell their wives!
Rhyme for the day:
From this lesson I have learned there is trash and treasure
And also there is scrap from which I got no pleasure
I didn’t make much money and it wasn’t lots of fun
I think my days of collecting scrap is truly said and done
Thanks for having coffee with me!