The hoards yearn for opportunities to be useful
Because of my big basement, I host not only my hoards, but those of others: people who have long-forgotten what they own. I'm still looking for appropriate uses for everything.

I had a yard sale once, and discovered there was an unmet demand for styrofoam mattresses. Who would have known? Made some cash there!

I've turned old medication bottles into canisters for screws and bolts. Visiting handymen can read the labels and give advice about dosages as they plunder my supplies.

The hoard of incandescent light bulbs has proven useful for those circuits with unreliable current, where compact fluorescent bulbs burn out.

A homeless man asked me to store an immense exercise machine for him. I laid it on its side in the garage and covered it with a tarp. Now, it's a refuge for my pet rabbit when the neighborhood possum comes raiding the rabbit's food supply at 3 a.m.

But the other hoards - the Christmas wrapping, the French historiography journals, the herbicide, the magazines featuring Lady Gaga, the plastic buckets, the plastic owls, the colored grout - they've yet to prove their merit.
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Thu 3 May 2012, 20:43, 1 reply)

This is strangely poetic

(Smale is stuffed, Thu 3 May 2012, 21:07, closed)