Missing cord/Christmas list!

So I had some great posts lined up surrounding my Dead Horse Bay finds and a recent estate sale purchase, but after taking the photos I realized I have no clue as to where the cord to connect the camera to the computer might be--which of the dozens of yet-to-be-unpacked boxes could it be stashed in? The question is a bit daunting.

Thus, those images are trapped in the camera for now, throwing a wrench into my goal to start easing back into regular posting. So I'm instead relying on other sources for images until I locate the cord.

Which brings me to the actual subject at hand--I was browsing through some of the many links I've bookmarked over time, and noticed this gorgeous breadboard from the Swedish designer Sagaform. Not only is it a beautiful object, but it's also quite functional--I love a loaf of fresh, crusty bread but after slicing it there are always so many crumbs. Thus, breadboard with crumb catcher=brilliance.

And I've been eyeing Alyssa Ettinger's porcelain replicas of vintage milk bottles from various Brooklyn and Queens dairies. I think the one on the left is calling my name.

So come Christmas list compiling time, these are definitely two items making the cut. Otherwise I'm buying a couple of birthday gifts for myself.

The apartment as a blank canvas

I'm finally done with moving stuff in (three weeks later), so I can now concentrate on actually getting set up in my new apartment. Here's how it looked on the first day:

Tons of floor space in the kitchen, though not nearly enough counter space. Luckily we had a separate counter from Ikea from a previous counter-deprived kitchen. Note the first of many, many boxes.

The master bedroom is huge. So huge that I could not get it all in one photo. The built-in shelves are pretty convenient, though the dark wood is a bit ugly (what can you do?). The lack of closet doors ensures that I will have to make sure I always keep my closet neat.

The living room is also pretty spacious.

The second bedroom--or should I say the computer/record/craft room. (It's actually looking like the crafts will be confined to the closet and only brought out when in use, with the crafting corner I had envisioned nixed in favor of seating. Makes sense--you need to be comfortable while listening to your records!)

And finally, the bathroom. I love the black and white tile. The hand-me-down shower curtain has already been replaced with a plastic liner. I'm thinking of getting this curtain--a little pricey for a piece of cotton (in my opinion) but I love the print. It's exactly what I was looking for!

Trash picking at Dead Horse Bay

Things have been a little bit slow going around here, as far as moving into our new apartment is concerned. We still have another car load or two to cart over from our old house, and the new place is filled with boxes in inconvenient places. It's going to be awhile before we're back into the regular swing of things.

But right before moving day (well, the first day) I managed to squeeze in an interesting side trip to Dead Horse Bay in Brooklyn. The morbid sounding name comes from the dozens of rendering plants that once surrounded the beach, the bones of dead horses often washing onshore (some swear you can still spot a rib or two but I didn't see any).

Right across the street from the entrance to Floyd Bennett Field, there is an entrance to a path that leads out to the beach. There we found this crazy nest.

Almost there--you can see the water at the end.

At first glance it looks like an ordinary beach.

And then you get a closer look.

Around the turn of the century, the marsh of Dead Horse Bay began to be used as a landfill. By the 1930s the trash heap was capped, only to burst in the 1950s, trash spewing forth onto the beach. It has been continually leaking garbage ever since.

The beach is covered with tires, old shoe soles, rusty bits of metal and plastic, and thousands and thousands of bottles, some still intact yet still more in broken jagged shards. One of the most interesting aspects of the trash is that it is vintage trash (well, for the most part--I'll bet some more recent visitors have added to it quite a bit), the refuse of bygone eras. It's also a grim reminder that trash doesn't disappear after the garbage truck takes it away; rather, it sticks around for a very long time.

Here's a bit of broken ceramic--would have been cool (though highly surprising) to find a whole one.

No horse bones, but there was a dead horseshoe crab.

The quiet, eerie calm, coupled with the blanket of trash, lends the beach a strange, post-apocalyptic atmosphere, like civilization has up and gone.

The beach even comes with its own shipwreck.

Well, the top half of a boat. It sports some amazing graffiti, much of it fresh (with references to "Michael Jackson overdose"). My favorite is "Bitches from hell eat Taco Bell"--so true.

Some bits of plastic bags and strings and ribbons tangled in the branches--almost looks beautiful.

While I didn't find the treasure trove I had hoped for--would have been amazing to find some vintage milk bottles or whole ceramic objects--I did pick up a few things (with gloved hands). I'll post those images soon(ish).