15 Comments
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Craig's avatar

Sorry r Bob. You had mentioned in a piece about a friend that had many walnut trees but didn't have a way to utilize the harvest. I failed to share that it was for him. I didn't share enough details, sorry.

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M. Dorsett's avatar

My husband has a fit every time I put something out on the front lawn.

"No one will ever take that!" Almost always, within an hour, it's gone

without a trace. There are many, many needy people and lots of

resourceful ones that re purpose or fix. I got my desk from someone's

lawn. My stove is 80 years old and my washing machine

is at least 30. They don't make things the way they used to! Great story...

enjoyed the way it was written.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

Thank you. I didn't include it in the story because I didn't want it to be too long, but the man who took it told me that even if it were broken, he could fix it. Unfortunately, I have no such talent...

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M. Dorsett's avatar

God bless the fixers of this world! We all play our part.

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Ralph Rosenberg's avatar

Just like the commercials- the gifts that keep on giving. Both the appliances mentioned int he story and comments...and the acts of giving. Plus, the gift of Robert's story telling. I don't have an appliance story. The closest I have is when I started my law office nearly 50 years ago. I went to garage sales and over time found a beautiful oak desk, vertical wooden cabinet with homemade shelves and several chairs and metal cabinets. Later in life, when I would move and downsize, I called various groups and I offered used office/home furniture, with the proviso that someone had to carry them away. My oak desk is now occupying office space in a local domestic abuse office. I tend to anthropomorphize objects, including gifts given and received. I think my oak desk is quite content. I bet Robert's dryer is doing well. I bet Beth's washing machine is content, too.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

I tend to anthropomorphize objects too. A habit from childhood, but I am slowly losing it. Thanks for sharing the story of your desk!

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Marjorie Nelson's avatar

And just like that! you kept an appliance out of the landfill a little longer. Plus, you helped another human being. ❤️

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Beth Hoffman's avatar

Such beautiful writing. We got our washing machine from the dump! It looked basically new...took it home and a guy serviced it for about $30. Works like a charm.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

Thank you! There are always so many appliances at the dump, I've often wondered how many could be repaired cheaply and recycled. Thanks for the story!

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Kevin Alexander's avatar

I helped my mom downsize last fall. There were countless things that she didn’t want to part with because they were gifts, and people would somehow know- Nevermind that she was moving 1800 miles away, or that more than a few of the gift givers had already passed away.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

Fascinating how we build emotional ties through material things. Thanks for sharing.

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Julie Gammack's avatar

Bob, my mother gave me an antique tea cart when I moved into my first apartment...I lugged that thing through countless moves over the decades. As my taste evolved from, uh, whatever, to contemporary, that thing became more and more of an oddity. I finally realized, she must have wanted to get rid of it way back then, or I guarantee she wouldn’t have given it to me. That recognition gave me just the umph I needed to give it away. Now, my brother has the honor of moving the tea cart next.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

Perfect!

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Joshua Doležal's avatar

Enjoyed this one, Bob. Lovely image at the end. I had a therapist once who encouraged me to think of shaming and guilt as "gifts" that I could refuse. It's an ingenious way of disarming a comment or passive aggressive suggestion. Instead of hearing hatred or judgment, which then becomes my own burden of anger, I can simply think of such remarks as harmless gifts that I can refuse. "No thank you -- you keep it." Obviously that doesn't always work, and there are occasions when hatred or judgment poses a real danger that needs to be resisted head-on. But for those little snipes from family, which aren't always worth a counterassault but can turn into real baggage if left unaddressed, it's gold.

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Robert Leonard's avatar

Thanks. Great idea. So tough to refuse these kinds of "gifts" too. Thanks for the tip. I always try to think that if I accept these "gifts," I'm giving the person trying the shaming and guilt more power than I want them to have, which helps too.

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