Happy · goodies, · proud · to · be · homemade

I grew up in a family where recycling was a must, but it was considered average and not something to be aware about. This is in part usual when you are from a peasant (?) heritage, but still at least two members of my family were sort of a pros in the recycling cicle.

One is my mother, who never throws away anything (and when she has to, she prefers not to look) and introduced me to the amusing art of taking things from garbage. She is also highly skilled in recycling food, mostly because she hates cooking, or what is considered "housewife cooking".

The other one is my grandfather, my dad's dad, who owned a really, believe me, really HUGE wine cellar, where he collected not wine, but myriads of every-things. Not only he didn't throw away anything, but, because he was really good in fixing all sort of things, people used to gave him all their broken unwanted stuff. This way, he had tons of unespected things, that he transformed in equally unespected ways (at least, for me). One of my favourite was a swing chair he constructed from an old car inside seats and some other metal things he had around. It was amazing, I remember staying on there for long hours, and it was so comfy! He passed those amazing skills to one of my cousins, who constructed his own bike from scratch, using pieces of different broken bikes (I can still remember that because we went together "shopping" in dump areas).

Anyway. I can be pretty wordy, especially in english. All this to say that I love recycling, mostly for sentimental reasons but not only, and thus I like these (via art for housewives). 
I should have, laying around somewhere in my messy house, a shoebox where I collected all the pieces from broken keyboards and other computer things. But oh, cursed lazy me!

I had to proof myself I could still crochet something, yet irrelevant.



( Meet Fingah )