I have the habit of intervening between friends/neighbors/strangers and their trips to the transfer station. Back in the day, people would take their junk/treasures to the dump and pile them up, then a bright little thing like myself would toddle along and find new uses for most of it. Now I have to aggressively jump on the poor transferers before they get there, if possible.
Such was the case with a neighbor who just happened, poor man, to have a bunch of stuff in his garage to crate off to the dump. Whoa Nellie! While it may embarrass family members, I am not at all shy about asking for things that would otherwise be discarded. Such as:
Woot! Nine pint jars with lids and six quart jars - four with lids, two without. These are some older jars, as the glass seems to be three times as thick as today's canning jars. I have already got plans for most of them. I also intervened on a big box of old towels (with three dogs, one can never have too many - plus I pass them along to the rescue), two sweatshirts - brandy new, a pair of brandy-new sweatpants (FAT pants, Sylvie!), a plastic bin of crafting stuff, and three empty plastic bins. I am so excited!!!
Heaven only knows what I will be like thirty years from now. I see some intervening on my person in my future by my dear sisters - you have been warned!!! :)