Topped with a basket ($1) at a rummage sale and a hanging pot from a previous year, you see my garden table. We, and by we I mean me and my dear darling husband “Chuck”, found the table at curbside after someone moved out. Yep: a curb picked gem.
Sometimes I resist. I left a stool that almost matched one in our basement and didn’t pick it up. I did stop, I admit it. The stool stood on the curb with a pile of scrap wood. On one piece of wood was a sign saying, “FREE: Measured once, cut twice.”
Right now, the only things turning up curbside are branches. I think I’ll stay home.