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Pickin’

November 14th, 2013

Marc on the pile

It was an ordinary Monday night in late August when I took one more step toward my life-long goal of becoming an “American Picker”. The tip had come from my sister Kelli several months earlier. She was in the process of being a dutiful farm wife (chuckle, chuckle, I can just see my brother-in-law rolling his eyes at my decision to use the word “dutiful” in describing Kelli) by helping Marc move irrigation pipe in one of his fields down by the creek. It was then that she spied an old wooden barn door laying along the creek bank. Apparently an area farmer was using this secluded part of the creek to dispose of unwanted wood from his outbuildings.

Because I have my family so well trained she immediately thought that I would probably like to possess that old door. How right she was. I am always on the look out for old barn wood or any old wood planks that I can turn into signs like this one…

O COME

this one…

JACK

and this one…

HOME

we made plans to go check out this secret stash. Weeks passed before we decided to take some action. That action started out with a Saturday afternoon scouting trip. While having coffee at our parents house we proposed having them drive us out to the spot. My mom is always up for a Saturday afternoon cruise around town or the countryside, Dad on the other hand took a bit of convincing. But you see, we needed him, or at the very least we needed his little, red pickup. So I loaded my sister and my two Design Assistants into the little, red pickup, which by the way is not an extended cab, so four adults is just a bit smooshed, and headed out into the countryside.

Once we found the rutted, old driveway leading to my buried treasure we realized the little, red pickup had gotten us as far as it could go. The dirt road, or I should say, mud road was pretty much impassable thanks to a nearby pivot so Kelli and I decided to get out and hike to the spot leaving my Assistants behind to melt in the sweltering heat of the little, red pickup cab. We rounded the curve and there it was…. ahhhhhhh (that sound effect was provided by a choir of singing angels).

the pile

I swear I saw a few sunbeams shining down onto that pile of debris. We started rummaging and pulled out a few old boards, some of them were covered in white chippy paint (ahhhhhhhh) some had spots of red spray paint (ahhhhhhhh) and jackpot… some were painted with sunny, yellow chippy paint (ahhhhhhhhh ahhhhh ahhhh). We started to carry what we could back to the truck, I of course thought I had found a quicker route back to the pickup but only ended up almost losing one of my best flip flops when my right foot sunk down to above my ankle in the mud. We loaded up, I threw my muddy flip flop into the back of the pickup and we headed back to town.

Kelli and I made plans to return the next Monday after work. This time I came a bit more prepared, tennis shoes, no flip flops. And this time we brought Marc’s big pickup and Kelli just plowed through the muddy road like she was a real farm hand. Marc and Marli were moving irrigation pipe in another field and were supposed to meet us out there, we needed a bit more muscle.

three helpers

We couldn’t wait so we started rummaging again, it wasn’t as easy as it sounds since it was a pretty big pile built up on the creek bank which in reality was a ravine. When Marc got there I was in the process of trying to climb out on top of the pile while steadying myself with a tree branch. He immediately informed me that the tree I was using to steady myself was covered with poison ivy. AHHHHH!!! The itching and burning started instantly. DARN! Why didn’t I ever join the Girl Scouts? In the end I think it was mostly in my mind because I only went home with one red, raised welt on my arm and a possible case of West Nile.

Martha close up

But I also went home with several big barn doors and a bunch more old wood boards. They are currently sitting in my garage awaiting inspiration. Unfortunately I had to leave that original door that Kelli first spotted behind because we couldn’t fit it in the pickup. Marc promised he would go back and get it for me another day… I’m still waiting.

2 Responses to “Pickin’”

  1. Kriso Says:

    So this is how Marc got West Nile!!! Consider

  2. Kriso Says:

    So this is how Marc got West Nile!!!

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