Alley Garden Progress

When we first moved to The Box House, the alley side of the garage was a bit of a mess.

It was a dumping ground for sand, refuse, broken glass, and dead leaves. A tree was growing from the foundation.

Here it is today:

Last year, I had whacked the weed tree down and soaked it in root kill. I have yet to decide how I'm going to remove the root ball. You can still see a bit of the stump at the far end of the picture. The hostas are all hand-me-downs, transplanted from the gardens of friends and family. The brick edging is primarily made from bricks I've found or dug up in the yard. The bushy things at the far left are two forsythia saplings I got for free last year. When they've had another year or so of growth on them and can fend for themselves, I'll plant them elsewhere in the yard. For now, the garage blocks the roughest of winter winds. There are some lilies of the valley here, too, transplanted from the back of the house, where we found hundreds of them growing.

Not bad for a free garden, eh?

Fancy Schmancy Potting Bench

Sadly, the sideboard I found in the alley last week won't be making it into the house. I really couldn't figure out where I was going to put it! And so, it's going to start it's next phase of life as a sort of upmarket potting bench:

I managed to get most of my ceramic pots underneath it for winter storage, filled the side compartments with bags of grass seed and fertilizer, and looky! Room for my hand tools in the front drawers! Previously, these were scattered here and there throughout the garage.

There's almost, almost room in the garage for a car.

Sideboard Blues and a Standard Bathroom Sink, Too

Sunday night was garbage night, and about half a block up the alley I spotted this vintage sideboard:

It's an old piece by John M. Smyth, a Chicago-based furniture company that only recently closed after 140 years of operation. (Those who grew up around here no doubt remember their warbling theme song "John M. Smyth Ho-o-ome-makers!")

The veneer is chipped in a few places, which is why it was no doubt painted this stunning blue, although you can't see the chips unless you inspect it closely. I'll call it shabby chic.

Ted calls it crap.

Although he very kindly helped me haul it down the alley to the garage, I think he's starting to lose patience with my junk-collecting habit. Especially since I haven't had time to either rehome, resell, or refinish the pieces that are stacking up. We are finally ridding ourselves of the last few pieces of junk left behind by the previous owners, which means that maybe, just maybe, we can think about fitting a car in here.

But not if I keep bringing home stray pieces of furniture. But I just can't stand seeing perfectly usable, vintage pieces sitting in wait for the trashman. Soon, I'll be able to run a bungalow restoration and furniture store out of our garage!

So. Um. Does anyone need a vintage Standard bathroom sink?

Nifty New (to Me) Dresser -- Dumpster Diving Treasure

While strolling down our alley last week, I spotted this dresser waiting to be picked up by the garbage collectors. I ended up making half a dozen trips up and down the alley to carry all the pieces back. I found it at the same bungalow where, earlier this spring, we found the swinging kitchen door. That treasure is still in our garage, waiting for a new purpose. (If you're in the Chicago area and need a door for your bungalow restoration, let me know by posting in the comments. You may have to patch a bit of the corner with Bondo or something, but it's an overall good door that we don't think we need, and are willing to give away.)

Anyway, the exterior of the dresser is in excellent condition. There are a few scuffs, but nothing serious, and most can be buffed out. I'll replace the round wooden knobs that scream "hello, I'm from the eighties" with something modern and bronze. Half of the knobs are missing, anyway. But I'm not sure how to go about fixing the sliders. It's probably the reason the neighbors were tossing this dresser out.

Each drawer has a simple groove that fits onto the slider:

Here is what the sliders look like:

Each slider is about 13 inches long, and is just a simple plastic piece that screws in place. Half of them on the dresser are either broken or missing. I checked Menards, Home Depot, and Lowes without luck. It's kind of an old style piece. I Googled around, looking for replacements, but I'm not sure I'm even calling it by its proper name, because I can't find anything like it.

So, my question to y'all is this: do you a) know if this is actually called a slider or not and b) where can I find a replacement? Short of that, what else might I try as a replacement, without making this project into too much of a production.

You see, until I actually fix and use this dresser, both Ted and Mom will continue to mock me, as they often do, for my dumpster diving and alley prowling, because I tend to bring home things that are of genuine value, but don't take (or find) the time to fix them, so they collect in the garage. I just can't stand seeing perfectly good items getting tossed out.

Bungalow Door — A Dumpster Diving Adventure

On the way back from a late-night run to 7-11 for our Big Ass Diet Cokes, we decided to come back via the alleyways. It was garbage night in the 'hood, and we were wondering if we'd find anything interesting now that it's spring and everyone is working on their houses. The night yielded a few choice finds: a set of funky old rocks glasses and this great, solid-wood swinging kitchen door that came from a bungalow. Now, we already found the two kitchen doors that were original to The Box House, so we don't really need this one, but there was no way we could leave a perfectly decent door to be tossed out with the trash.

It does need some work; one side is painted white and on the top, at the part where it attaches to the top of the door frame, there is a bit of wood loss that can probably be filled in with epoxy. But still, they just don't make 'em like this anymore. I was too paranoid to take the Cokes home first and come back, lest someone snatch it from under my nose, and I didn't want to leave the Cokes behind with the rest of the garbage. Who knows what could happen to them in the five minutes they were out of my sight. So we carried the door under one arm and balanced our drinks in the other hand. What an odd sight!

I have to laugh--after weeks of trying to find new homes for all the junk left by the previous owners, here we are bringing more salvage home!