One of the great things about living in New York City is that on any given day, you could find an almost too tight pair of ice skates, a stack of feminism and anthropology books, as well as a Folk Singing Guitar book. And that’s what happened today! That’s me in my new size 4 ice skates (I do have small feet, but these are a wee bit tight) and that’s Ian paging through a guitar book. I’ve been skating around the house while Ian sings and plays Skip to my Lou, Big Rock Candy Mountain, Dead Heads and Suckers, Oleana, and some other folk songs with horrible chord progressions.




New Yorkers like to call this act of finding treasures in the garbage “dumpster diving,” but in fact, it is a lot less effortless than that. I can proudly say that I used to be a bonafide dumpster diver with my Aunt Adele, where we actually CLIMBED INTO DUMPSTERS AND FOUND STUFF. We had a toy claw thing to pick out things if it was particularly dirty/wet/icky, but for the most part, it was all about using your bare hands. Peeling out of mall parking lots in her truck or minivan, after mall security started to come after us in their unimpressive mini vehicles, was always a good time.

Anyway, we like to tell people when they come over that half of what you see in the apartment was found on the street, in the garbage. And we’re not lying! Here are our salvaged garbaged treasures:

An unused paper making kit:


A buffet/credenza/big wooden cool piece of furniture:


A rockin couch:


A blue rocking chair:


Also, 2 end tables, an ottoman, countless frames, 2 nightstands, 8 wine glasses, plant stand, countless books, 2 lamps, cool branches and probably other things I’m forgetting. Isn’t New York grand? Finding all these things *almost* offsets the cost of living here. Almost. 😉