What is a monkeybox?

When I was a little girl, we had a pet monkey named Amanda. My Dad worked in the produce business, so each night he brought home that days culls in a big box - spotty cucumbers, pithy apples, limp celery, moldy oranges and the like. We called it a monkeybox. It was really just trash, but my Mom would take each piece of fruit and trim it, pare it and cut it up to make a beautiful fruit platter for Amanda. Even though it was deemed trash by one, it still had life left in it and was good for the purpose we needed it. That's how I live my life - thrifting, yard saling, looking for another's trash to be my treasure.

Sunday, September 25, 2005

I stayed home yesterday even though it was a Saturday and I am sure there were a ton of yard sales. So, I stayed home and could not have possibly scored a deal, right? Not so fast! In the mail I received another envelope full of Soup Labels for my son. The lady also sent him a nice iron on patch of the USA flag int he envelope. I thought that was really nice.

Later in the day, my neighbor's daughter called from her Grandpa's house asking me to check on her Mom since the phone was off the hook. (I could write a book about the stories form this house!) When I went over there her yard was full of stuff that she was throwing out the door doomed for the trash. She told me to "take anything". I took a nice heavy wooden shelf meant for CD's and tapes - but should hold Beanie Babies very well.

Hint of the Day: Look at your neighbor's trash as you drive by - we make a habit of placing things out by the curb for free. We get quite the kick out of wathcingpeole take stuff. And, if I am tossing it - it is trash. Trsut me!


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