"I learned it from a depression era grandmother. "
Both my parents (bless their souls) were that way. My dad even saved used nails and things like that...he saved them for what he called 'hard-times.'
posted on 03/13/2006 10:30:22 AM PST
Oh no, not the dreaded coffee cans of used nails. My dad built a house out of scrap wood from the dump. Going to the dump on Sat in the mid 50's was fun for 2 growing boys. It was a treasure trove of all kinds of goodies. But after bringing the wood home it was my me and my brothers job to take all the nails out and stack the wood so it wouldn't warp. And we had to save all the nails by size in different coffee cans. Only later when the construction started did we find out that we had to straighten the nails for reuse. Oh, how I hated that job.
My dad even saved used nails and things like that...he saved them for what he called 'hard-times.'
Your's too? My grandfather saved all that stuff. When we tore down an old barn, we had literally tons of old nails, bolts, and wire.
posted on 03/16/2006 10:42:38 AM PST
("God is dead" -- Nietzsche. "Nietzsche is dead" -- God.)
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