Getting those wood scraps out of the basement

We moved into this row house only a half-dozen years ago. We were looking for a place in the city which would accommodate our bike habit, knowing that most row houses aren't super bike friendly: the main access is up a flight of stairs and then straight into the living room. We love biking, but don't want our bikes in the living room.  

When we toured this particular house, there were already a bunch of other possible buyers up in the living room, so we took a detour through the side entrance, and discovered that there's easy access from the street to a large basement area, with lots of storage for bikes.  Beyond the bike storage area (what else would you use it for?!?), there's a basement room with a woodworking area, and spaces for canning shelves, and even a bathroom.  We fell in love with this place just for the basement alone.  (It turns out the rest of the house is nice, too.)

But having a large basement comes with consequences.  My dad used to say, "stuff fills to expand all available space".  And indeed, we've filled the basement up -- with canning jars, off-season supplies like Christmas decorations, family memorabilia that we're going to look at "someday", and with wood.

The wood in the basement; oy.  I never bought wood; but I trash-picked all sorts of wood-based objects for my projects.  I made shelves out of a dining-room table with a broken leg; I found bed slats that turned into cow shelves. I love making things with wood.  But the excess, it multiplied like bunnies.

I read somewhere on the internet (meaning I have no idea if it's actually true) that one of the things that hoarders hoard -- one of those things that's incredibly challenging to get out of their houses -- is wood scraps.  Now that I'm moving, I know I have to clean out the basement, and the wood scraps seem to sit in every corner.  

Or rather they seemed to sit in every corner.  I've spent about two weeks sawing them into smaller pieces and boxing them up, so I can get rid of them. I know that Habitat Restore will take a lot of supplies, but wood scraps are NOT one of the things they want.  I have a friend who heats his home with wood, and if I saw the scraps into manageable pieces, he can take them.  

So that's what I've been doing: turning my "just in case" wood scraps into warmth for his home.  Apparently, I had a lot of "just in case" -- how could I get SO MUCH wood in just 6 years?  It never feels like I'm bringing home so much, and the basement never looked super junky.  But somehow, I have now filled nine boxes with firewood for my friend.

I will say, the basement is starting to look a bit more wide-open than it had before.  Getting stuff for free is a thrill, but getting rid of stuff in a way that is creative and generous is also fulfilling.  And that's what I'm enjoying now. 

There's a lot more de-junking to go -- some of which is sitting on shelves we've made with scrap lumber, and the shelves themselves will need to be de-junked, too.  But getting this wood carved up has been cathartic.  Good-bye, wood scraps!  Be warmth and light to my friend.

Fluffy stuff (from inside a couch)

A while back, I curbed-picked two couch cushions -- the big kind, not that you sit on, but that you lean against at the back of the couch.  I thought maybe they'd be a better color or more comfy than our current cushions.

The verdict: Really, these turned out to be about the same in terms of comfort as our current cushions, and the color wasn't that much of an improvement. Now, years later, it's time to release these back into the world.

I could just put them back at the curb for the trash haulers; after all, that's where I found them first.  But that is a LOT of stuff to head to a landfill or get burnt into poisonous gasses and ashes.  So I'm trying to find another way to put them to use.

The first step, of course, was disassembling them. I zipped off the outer blue covers; the blue upholstery fabric will make great fancy bags. That's the easy part.  The insides, to my surprise, weren't solid foam blocks, but white fluffy stuff: fiberfill!

Underneath the blue upholstery fabric
were white cotton (?) liners containing fluffy fiberfill.

Fiberfill (sometimes called polyfill) is the stuff that crafters use to fill teddy bears and other stuffed animals.  I went through a decade of making just such little animals for family and friends.  Nowadays, a one-pound bag of this sells for about $8 or $9.  And here, I have a bonanza on my hands!

But what to do with this myself? I'm no longer in the animal-making mode, and I don't really want to start up a new hobby just because I happen to have a glut of something I don't want anyway.  Instead, here's what I've tried so far:

• I called our local recycling center.  I assured them I know that they don't take it, but do they know anyone who does?  The woman who answered the phone commiserated with me; she hates to see how much stuff goes to waste, but says that she doesn't know of takers.  Instead, the only option she knew of is to be resigned to seeing it go in to the waste stream, where it would get burned. 
• I listed the fiberfill on Freecycle.  No takers.  Sigh.
• We had a bunch of pillows that have gotten packed down over the years.  I haven't replaced them because -- well, the usual, because I hate buying new stuff that will eventually go into the garbage.  In this instance, though, I took advantage of the fluffy bonanza.  I cut open the ends of the flat pillows, trashed the flat-mashed innards, repacked the pillows with fluffy fiber fill, and sewed the ends up.  Four "new" fluffy pillows, for free!  

I'm still working on responsibly rehoming the rest. It's hard!  I might someday have to give up and trash these bags; I'll update this post when their fate is determined.

Update:  

Our local creative reuse place DOES gladly take fiberfill, they tell me.  But even before I could take it there, my daughter nabbed it to stuff some creatures she's crocheting for a friend.  So, two good reasons to keep hunting for ways to rehome stuffing responsibly, avoiding burning or burying something that someone else would eventually have to purchase new!