Growing up, my family was lower middle class. Dad worked at Kelly AFB in San Antonio and mom was a housewife. We had one car, one t.v., and - literally - furniture from "the town dump." Mom made most of my clothes - she was very talented- and life was good. In fact, going to the dump was one of our great family adventures.

Somehow, my mom would know when the "good stuff" would be there, and we'd load up in the car and drive out. We made sure we had good shoes on, in case you stepped on something sharp. Then, we'd spread out and start looking. I think I remember being aware that I should be embarrassed to be walking among trash, but mom made it such an adventure that it was okay. Now remember, back then, people burned their household garbage, so most of this stuff was broken down, "useless" items no one wanted anymore. In the hands of my mom, though, it was rejuvenated. A coat of paint, some of dad's handwork with tools, and it had a new life. We've walk and look, and if we found something of interest, we'd call everyone over to see. I'm sure it was odd looking from someone else's perspective, but for us, it was an outdoor version of Family General!
Leave it to my mom and dad to put life back into someone else's junk.

I never took Dana and Erin to the dump... but there's always tomorrow!