Ye Olde Oil Tin

Years ago scrapyards, second hand shops and your local tip were a hive of activity for the Saturday and Sunday Dads. Men would spend part of their weekend working in the garden or around the house. Then off to the local tip you would all go, piling into the Ford Falcon station wagon. The front passenger seat usually occupied by the eldest child, as Mums generally decided to opt out and stay at home making the most of the peace and quiet. There was something about going to the local tip that got you so excited, was it all the odds and sods, old toys and trinkets that littered the place. An aging foam surfboard, a boogie board with a snapped leg rope, a broken hobby horse and even a push along car with the peeling paint and one wheel buckled, our Dad would fix it all up as new, so in exchange for our garden clippings we came home with a brand new set of toys. Mind you we had to wash our hands and feet the minute we got home. According to Mum she couldn’t quite understand what got into Dad letting us wonder around the tip in our thongs?

Long gone are those days, kids are not interested in the local tip, they don’t even know what one is I suppose. Dads don’t have time to do the gardening or work around the house, instead we have garden men, pool men, window cleaners and an average house block size of 420 square meters, 350 square meters of which is pure house. So these days’ weekends consist of Dad mowing a small lawn after his morning cycle and coffee with his buddies, a few hours in front of his computer screen, checking out the local Gumtree Ads. He emerges around 2.30 ready to crack the first glass of wine or mid-strength beer and settle down to an afternoon of football. Of course in front of the latest ULD, OED, WIFI Smart TV on the market, which after the next version of TV appears on the market will end up on that scrap heap, we once use to derive so much fun from as a family. Ask yourself this question 1) Dads on the computer and in front of the TV on a Saturday? 2) Kids playing PlayStation for hours on end?

But stop there is always hope….. Yesterday, “a Saturday” we had a Dad and his friend come in to our salvage yard accompanied by his young son aged around 10. For nearly an hour all I heard was this young boy’s sweet oohs and ahhs as he related his opinion on various goodies around the yard. Memories came flooding back, as I heard his gleeful squeals at finding a small 1950’s very old oil can which he thought was a real treasure. A few weeks earlier I had nearly sold this same old oil can to a regular client, who desperately tried to bargain me down as in his opinion this item was worth nothing as it was battered and old. I was so glad I didn’t sell it to him, as I happily gave it to that little boy who seemed to derive so much pleasure from that battered old oil tin. The bonus being his Dad bought two old sinks with stands for $50 each for a renovation he was doing on an old house – good on you that Dad.

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