Finding Beauty in Rusty Old Things

I have collected a few interesting pieces of antiquity that I like to put in my flower beds. Old wagon wheels have great meaning for us because Rob has an ancestor who was a well-respected wagon-maker in West Virginia. Old tools whose wooden handles have rotted off make me wonder about all the years of labor someone put in using them. Parts of a VW Beetle remind me of my childhood watching Herbie Rides Again. Here is a link to some really enthusiastic fans of that movie. (Maybe I should look for that on Netflix?) An old pitcher pump and an old milk jug bring back the pioneer days.

So I guess I saw something totally different than my children did when I looked at those beauties from the past. I didn't realize it until they came to me one day with a handful of pieces of rusted metal broken off of who-knows-what-source of tetanus. "Look, Mommy! We found these for your rust garden." I can't even imagine what they thought of my collecting habit, but they apparently recognized the pattern and were willing to contribute.

I guess I need to be a little more careful about the safety of my acquisitions and perhaps not keep everything old and rusty. I am not a hoarder like on the popular television show, but I could stand to get rid of a few things, maybe even a few beautifully rusted memories of the "good old days." There is a fine line between ecclectic and cluttered. I would rather be on the ecclectic side of that line if I can help it, but I have a feeling my kids are going to have some stories to tell regardless. I took them to the local junkyard with my husband and while he turned in the not-so-collectible metal we found on our property, we explored rust heaven. We found some cool rusty old funnels and more old milk jugs. One even had a modern spigot attached. When I get a good picture of it, I will post it.  A waitress friend of ours saw me at her restaurant and ran out to her car, returning with an old rusted cast iron dutch oven for my rust garden (in the picture above). I hope at least my children will learn to see the beauty and value of things from an older, simpler time. I hope they learn to repurpose and recyle. At least that's what I keep telling myself.