Fly tipping in reverse... or why the Upsycho needs a van

Since moving into full time Upcycler mode, I have developed a distinct tic. Every time we drive past a skip, I practically give myself whiplash, trying to see if there's anything useful being chucked out. There often is, but sadly, I can't usually fit it into my car. I drive a great big monster of a Volvo S80, but its boot (trunk) is smaller than most and its back seat doesn't go flat. Both for the same reason: there is a built-in fridge in my car where the middle back seat should be. Go figure.

A while back, I was taking Jess for a walk, when I spotted a broken pine TV stand on top of the bins (trash cans) of a house not far from mine. I helped myself to it, popping a note through the letter box, in case they hadn't meant to chuck it out. It became two dog beds.

Two dog beds

In the summer, I took my Mom birding at a local sanctuary, and we spotted a pile of trash dumped by the side of the access road. It included two plastic crates that I was sure I could use, but my Mom was so horrified at the mere suggestion, that I didn't retrieve them. I'm so sorry I didn't, because they would have made great dog beds and plastic is a terrible product to send to landfill because it doesn't biodegrade.

Last month, for several days in a row, I saw a very nice armchair dumped by the side of the road on my way to work. Sadly, I just knew it wouldn't fit in the car. A real pity, because it was crying out for an Upsycho makeover. Eventually, the council must have removed it because it (and the rest of the junk dumped with it by a fly-tipper) disappeared.

Two weeks ago, I spotted a tea trolley, dumped on the exit ramp from the local Sainsbury. It was a blind bend with no safe place to stop, so I promised myself that I would go there on foot next time I visited the store, and retrieve it. Someone beat me to it. I hope it was someone who was able to do something useful with it.

Just a few days ago, I spotted a metal item sticking out of the undergrowth beside the A509. It was during rush hour traffic, so I had a full second or two to take in some sort of square section frame and circles. I went back yesterday to investigate.

Half buried in the undergrowth

I dragged it out of the undergrowth and across the road to my car. Such a simple sentence to type. Not such a simple thing to do. The road had been deserted when I crossed it empty handed. But now that I was trying to make it back across the road, carrying two unwieldy metal structures, everybody seemed to want to travel to or from Isham! Finally getting across the road to a clear patch, I laid them down to see what they were.

My hard-won treasures

I hadn't anticipated that right-angled assembly and I had no tools with me to take them apart. Getting them into the car was no mean feat.

Getting them into the car was no mean feat

My Volvo S80 was not designed to do duty as a workhorse

Getting them to my workshop was the easy bit. Once there, I stood them upright and inspected them. I was quite surprised at how tall they are. Over two metres. Perhaps 220cm. One section is bent (top left of the picture below), and there is some rust to remove. Other than that, the frames are in pretty good nick. Obviously that fabric will have to go, but I have plenty in the stash to replace it with.

Over 2m tall!

What I don't understand is why someone dumped them where they did. It can be a dangerous stretch of road. Plus, they could just as easily have taken them to our recycling plant, which has a special section for metal waste. People are weird.

Watch this space to see what becomes of my fly-tip-retrieval.

You know the expression, change is the only constant?

I started this blog to explore the journey in my life-after-learning. Okay, I haven't actually stopped learning - far from it. I hope I never do. But I'm no longer working as a learning professional.

Working as an upsycho was the 'next chapter' of the title. And that is fun, exciting, challenging, interesting...and not terribly lucrative.

But there are other kinds of new chapters in our lives, too.

Mr Namasi and I are fairly new inductees to the Empty Nest Club. The doors to the bedrooms that used to be occupied by our sons now remain (almost) permanently closed. The need for two fridges and an upright freezer has evaporated like the morning mist. The need for two bathrooms, likewise.

The company my husband works for is being wound down as we speak. So he's hitting the 'want ads' as they call them in the movies.

And finally, we're foreigners in a post-Brexit-referendum UK (he's a Swede and I'm some other kind of vegetable). At this stage it's unclear what that will mean for us in the medium-to-long term, and things seem to swing from ominous to business-as-usual on a daily basis.

All the factors taken together made us decide that it was time to up roots and downsize. So we've put our house on the market (here, in case you're interested). We think we'll probably rent for a while, until we know which way is up and how many beans make five. Maybe a nice rural cottage with a big outbuilding. Maybe a park home. Who knows?

So much shifting sand. So much uncertainty. And yet...

We've hit bumpy patches before, but our sons were still dependents, living at home. The stress and anxiety nearly did me in.This time it's different.

We've always had this little thing we say to each other when we set off somewhere on our own: just the twosies of us. And here we are, facing challenges on every side, just the twosies of us. And because it is just the two of us, it's so much less stressful. Our sons have jobs and homes. They'll be okay. If we wind up sleeping on camp beds in someone's garage for a few weeks, it'll be okay. If we have to move to the EU, it'll be okay. We'll figure it out. As we used to say in South Africa 'alles sal regkom' (it will all work out).

So your friendly upsycho is being uncharacteristically UN-psycho about the whole thing.

For now.

Thinking about value

Wall art from reclaimed wood

As an upcycler/restorer, I make pieces out of things that other people were planning to throw away. Pallets that were to be consigned to the fire, have become wall art, or dog beds. Items of furniture that had been damaged by damp, have gained a new lease on life.

Before

After

I am also commissioned to restore things. Patio sets for two different clients, a candelabra for another, tables, counter tops... all manner of things. Even a picture. Fret not, it's not the art work I'm restoring, or we might have a repeat of this!

Failed restoration

What I have discovered is that there is no predicting what has value to people.

In the book version of the Harry Potter series, there is a very touching insight into Neville Longbottom that wasn't included in the movies. Having been tortured by Voldemort's bunch, his parents reside permanently in a mental hospital. Neville and his grandmother visit them there. Each time, as they leave, Neville's mother presses a shiny sweet wrapper into his hand, with the air of someone bestowing a gift of great value. Neville treasures those wrappers - not for what they are, but for what they represent.

Just because an antique dealer would turn his/her nose up at a reproduction table with a plywood top, is not to say that it doesn't have great sentimental value to someone who grew up seeing that table every time they went to visit Granny and Grampa. Just because it would be cheaper to chuck out a little patio set and buy a new one made of PVC, doesn't mean that it isn't worth restoring to the person who bought it with their very first pay cheque. Just because a picture is a print in a damaged frame, doesn't mean it isn't the most precious piece of art to someone for whom it brings back memories of a late, much loved relative.

It is up to me to see these things through the eyes of the owners. The people to whom these things are so valuable that they are prepared to pay me (or someone like me) to do everything I can to extend its life and to make it look pretty again. It is up to me to handle them like the treasures they are.

Working with other materials

For the most part, as you may have noticed, I work with wood (or facsimiles thereof like MDF, laminates and laminated chipboard). But I also work with other materials. I have a studio at home, where I carry out handcrafts that don't involve power tools: sewing, beading, decopodging...that kind of thing.

Tray table - before

In the typical manner of a creative person, I tend to start out with one goal in mind, and wind up in a slightly different place, as inspiration moulds the project organically. So I seldom work entirely within my comfort zone, and most projects stretch me at least a little. Oddly enough (or perhaps not), this is exactly the approach I employed when I used to design learning solutions in my previous life.

Then from time to time, I am given the opportunity to explore new territory.

I was recently commissioned to restore a metal patio set that had seen better days. A two-seater bench and a little tray table. It had great sentimental value to its owner. I knew that I could strip it and sand it back by hand, before painting it again. And I knew it would be a long, slow process.

Two seater - before

At the same time, I was also given a candelabra made of twisted iron rods. The cups for the candles had pretty much rusted away, and the client gave me carte blanche to let my imagination run riot. Once again, this would involve stripping and repainting.

First things first, though - those rusted candleholders had to come off. This sort of work gives me time to think, so it is during the purely manual parts of a project that inspiration tends to strike. It dawned on me - maybe I could have the rust sandblasted off instead.

I found a local sandblasting firm and approached them. For them it was a small project - they usually work on huge pieces, but they were keen on the idea and agreed to do the work for me. They sanded and primed all three pieces.

Screw-in eyes

In the workshop next door to the sandblasting firm, is a metalworker. He works on Rolls Royces and vintage lorries. But he was happy, too, to weld screw-in eyes onto the candelabra for me (he also made a new drip tray for our gas barbecue, but that's another story). I think the work felt like a holiday to him.

During conversations with the sandblasting man, we discovered that we could form a mutually beneficial relationship in respect of some of the stuff he throws away. I will save him the trouble of disposing of it, and it will provide me with the basis of some interesting pieces going forward.

Once that was done, I painted all three pieces in accordance with the clients' instructions, and reunited them with their happy owners.

Patio set - after

Candelabra turned lantern tree

The point I'm making is that it's worth having a go. It's worth talking to other local tradespeople and crafters. It's worth asking. People can always say no, but often I find people enjoy the opportunity to do something different. Especially if they get to be a little creative in the process.

So you've never tried x thing before. Give it a shot. You might surprise yourself. And you might make some interesting new acquaintances into the bargain.

My new workshop

My pallet riches

Your friendly upsycho is feeling rather ridiculously pleased with a couple of recent developments. First: I got a workshop. A place where I can keep my growing collection of power tools, and make as much noise and mess as necessary to produce my kreations. It also provides me with the space I need to store all my pallets, raw materials and half-finished projects without posing threat to life, limb and Mr Namasi's patience.

My workshop shares premises with a dog grooming parlour, and the owner of the business has kindly afforded me some space within the store to display some of my kreations. So, if you're a local person, bring your best friend in to Top Dogs Professional Grooming Service in Birchfield Road East (opposite the Co-op), Northampton, and take a look at some of my bits and pieces on display there. You can wait while your dog is groomed, or pop out for a bit of a grooming yourself - there's a barber shop two doors down, and a beauty salon across the road.

Table saw

Band saw

I'm also rather pleased to have acquired - for little more than a song - a table saw and a band saw from a lovely bloke who just wanted his garage space back. He delivered them, set them up, demonstrated them and then insisted on watching me use them, to make sure that I had absorbed enough from his demo to keep all my fingers.

The table saw in particular has been an absolute godsend, as I tackle the pallets and crates that have long awaited my attention.

Some examples of the sort of things I have been producing:

A headboard, made out of upcycled bed slats and painted to match an existing mural (also my handiwork).

Rich colours

A couple of small dog beds made out of an upcycled TV stand (with a few added bits).

Small dog beds for little best friends

A giant dog bed, made out of a pallet and some decking boards

Giant dog bed for a very large best friend

This is a very bed-centric selection of items, I notice. Perhaps this is because I'm feeling a little under the weather today. But I have made some non-bed items:

Funky shelf unit

Rack for dog-walking accessories

I have also worked in mediums other than wood, but more of that another day.

After a long silence...pleading for a little less dissing

I have been uncharacteristically quiet for some time, I know. I had my Mom to stay for six weeks, and we spent that time exploring garden centres, visiting coffee shops, going birding and doing the Daily Telegraph cryptic crossword puzzle every day. Things I just don't to do very often because I don't know anyone locally who shares my interest in any of these activities, and - apart from the DT crossword - doing them alone just makes me sad.

When she left - after a couple of false starts, because she flies staff rebate and has to go on standby - the Black Dog took full advantage of the void and moved in with me for a bit.

But I am on the mend.

Since we last spoke, my younger son has moved out of home into his very first flat. Now Mr Namasi and I are rattling around in this overlarge empty nest and using words like 'downsizing'.

Also...the Rio Olympics. Isn't it exciting? Team GB is currently second on the medal table. This little island is doing very well for itself. Usain Bolt is delivering the goods as expected. 'First ever' medals are being won for countries with small populations and large challenges (like Kosovo), and it gets, erm...very dusty in homes all over the world as we watch the victors hearing their anthems being played. And let's not forget the first ever Olympic gold medal to an African American swimmer, in a wonderful 'in your face' to a history of exclusion of black swimmers from local swimming pools until relatively recently. Of course, as a South African expat, your friendly upsycho is delighted at the world record breaking win in the 400m by Wayde van Niekerk.

But what's with all the dissing that's going on? Gabby Douglas's hair has made more of an impression than her gymnastics, for Pete's sake! What the heck is that about? One competitor refused to shake hands with his opponent after their judo bout (and got sent home for his trouble) because they have different religions. One victor failed to place her hand on her heart during the anthem - shock horror. Commentators are being ludicrously sexist: attributing women's wins to their male coaches; making comments like 'she swims like a man' (seriously?!); and calling Simone Biles the next Michael Phelps ("I'm not the next Michael Phelps, I'm the first Simone Biles."); completely overlooking the fact that the Williams sisters have won more than one gold medals than Andy Murray (an oversight Andy Murray was quick to point out).

I don't get it. I find the athletes breathtakingly admirable. Their discipline, dedication and skill are remarkable. I don't give a rat's ass what Gabby's 'edges' (whatever they may be) are doing. Or that x person's body isn't flattered by her (and it's usually a her) clothing. I reckon they're all pretty damned amazing, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Before (cat not included)

I try to counter the negativity with a positive attitude to my work. I'm also participating in a FB meme: posting five positive things about each day for five days.

After (sans cat)

Most of the projects I'm working on at the moment are commissioned pieces. I try to pour love (oh hush!) into what I do, and I hope that it shows. I hope that the clients feel that the investment in their chair/patio set/dog grooming parlour has been worth it, when they see them gain a new lease on life.

Sharing knowledge

Great tit and bullfinch

My Mom is currently visiting us from South Africa. She's a keen birder and what she calls a 'citizen scientist', participating in conservation efforts and so forth. One of the primary reasons for the timing of this visit is to see puffins with their fancy beaks on. I, on the other hand, am an embarrassment when it comes to matters ornithological. We'd be in the garden and my Mom would say, "Ooh! What's that?" referring to the call of some common garden bird, because her significant knowledge doesn't include the birds of the UK. Or she would point at a small speck on a fence post and ask "Is that a great tit or a blue tit?"

And I wouldn't know the answer.

Shameful.

So I went to a social forum called Streetlife - where local people can post questions or recommendations - and put out the call for a local birder to come and spend a couple of hours with my Mom, identifying the calls of the local birds.

Today, a lady called Barbara (also my Mom's name) came and spent two hours with us at the local Summer Leys Nature Reserve, identifying the calls of all the birds we heard, and providing the names of those we saw. We saw fewer than we heard because the full summer foliage hides them, and because they're busy with important things like raising chicks, not sitting out on branches in plain sight.

Blow me down if, after that, she didn't send us a list of all the birds we had seen and heard, as well as a list of others we hadn't seen but might yet see at this time of year.

And she did this all out of the goodness of her heart. Because she is a keen, committed birder, who wanted to help someone else who shares her passion.

I love that attitude!