"the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma."
The reality of my problem finally sunk in once I perused this weekend's land pics. I looked at the pictures of places where some of my gem-like old house parts live and realized I've restored the spot to its original beauty. But by "restored," I mean destroyed. And by "beauty," I mean crap. Oh dear. You see, looking at these photos reminds me of what we saw on our first trip out there: piles of nonsensical garbage strewn about an inordinate amount of old house parts in varying degrees of decay. (To be fair, those old house parts were on the order of torn sheetrock, broken tile, rotting shingles. You know, actual crap). My old house parts are dusty flowers requiring some elbow grease to eventually become functional, meaningful parts of a house someday. No, seriously.
You may be thinking the problem lies in my inability to say "NO" to anything with a bit of mold, rust, or lead paint. And you would be correct. Take my latest finds, for example. I grabbed them up from Laura over at The East Side Hovel and never looked back. Never considered a spot for a single one of those little doors, just saw a deal on some old 5 panels and couldn't resist. She even threw in a small lot of sweet old fashioned hexagonal tile (you rock Laura) and the pallets, to boot. Laura = happy, Jenna = happy. Win win. Now stop with all the judging.
The point is this: I have certainly tapped into a deeply buried but apparently quite strong obsession and concern with the anatomy of a home. I consider each part carefully; its purpose and aesthetic. Then I consider whether it's better old, or better new. Then I find it. This is a skill I've yet to make lucrative - but I'm workin' on it...
And just when I thought were was no way to top my exciting weekend of dumpster (or in this case backyard) diving, our friend gifted us with a (really very) early house warming present:
I have actually been quite desperate for a shady spot to enjoy the view. Thanks Joe! You really shouldn't have.