1. On Location: In Maine, Gifts from the Sea, and the Landfill | Joyce Wadler | The New York Times

    "The dump" isn’t a dirty word anymore …

    THERE is a four-letter word that many home decorators take pains to avoid, preferring, if a certain matter must be disclosed, a euphemism. But Jennifer Wurst — who lives with her partner in a rented, gray-shingled house in rural Maine, with rooms so spare and clean they could be the setting for a catalog shoot for the kind of high-end clothing Ms. Wurst cannot afford and would not buy anyway — uses the word shamelessly.

    Her source for the white bedside table? “The dump.”

    The dresser in the bedroom of their 18-month-old son, Finn? “It’s from the dump.”

    Finn’s book about Johnny Appleseed? “The dump.”

    The basket that holds the books? “The dump.”

    Transfer station, recycling center — use phrases like that if you must. Ms. Wurst, a onetime elementary school teacher, feels no such compunction. She is rather proud of her dozens of dump finds: Weber grill, bird prints, glassware, ironing board, old flour sifter and coffee grinder (which coordinate nicely with the wood-burning stoves), mirrors, tables, chairs, tablecloths, lamps, bamboo blinds. (MORE)

    *Photo Credit: Trent Bell for The New York Times

     
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