Garbage picking with the rich

This morning I walked up to Wychwood Park with my neighbour Barb's exercise class. There was not much puffing and panting, since we just strolled from house to house, talking about architecture and history and looking at the gorgeous trees. (I thought I didn't have my phone with me, but it turned out I did. Oh well, no photos of that today.)

It was garbage day, and the bins were out on the street for pickup. We passed one house that had boxes of stuff: paintings in frames, a vase, and a cardboard box containing wrapped crystal glasses, in the Pinwheel pattern. (Another of our number said that when she got married in 1966, she chose this as her wedding crystal pattern; this is what I call the "old ladies' exercise class"...)

Soon we were doing our tour of the neighbourhood lugging souvenirs -- luckily one woman grabbed a suitcase out of the pile and we were able to stash most of the glasses in that. My bag got used to carry these ones, but I shall give them to Barb, who aims to get them to a church bazaar. I might ask to keep a couple, just because!

Imagine putting these out -- what if the garbage truck had got there before the garbage-picking old ladies' exercise class?! We figure someone had died and the heirs are just emptying the house.

On our way back, we stopped by this house once more so someone could see if the vase was still there. It had gone, but some new things had been added to the pile. I'll show you tomorrow what else I got!