Once upon a time, back in 1802 when I worked at the "bank," one of the branches I was responsible for was cleaning house. No...not eliminating jobs nor the people who held them...getting rid of their trash that had accumulated around the branch.
As their Operations Consultant, one of my jobs was to insure that they carried out their tasks and responsibilities not only when they "played bank"...you know, adhering to procedures and regulatory requirements, etc.
but also, for other functions as well. In addition to being their auditor for internal controls, I was to monitor the tasks they needed to complete prior to renovation/conversion/refurbishments.
There I was on assignment, up on the second floor of my branch in Lexington, trying to help them get rid of junk that they simply brought upstairs rather than call for pick-up. I'd shudder thinking about it other than the fact that I ended up with this beautiful frame for my painting.
Oh, please don't think the frame was worth anything. Good gravy it was in five pieces piled in the closet and was originally a 60" x 30." The painting that was in it had been re-framed and hung beautifully downstairs in the Main Lobby. I, however, saw potential for this piece of trash. Gathering up all the broken pieces, I threw it in the back of my Wrangler. It sat in the garage until I was ready to tackle the task of reconstructing it.
Laying it out on the garage floor, mixing and matching sides, measuring, cutting, painting, gluing all took time but it was worth it. Every corner is different, thanks to my piecing it together like a puzzle, fitting, gluing and lastly applying some gold craft paint over a layers of burnt umber. And they all lived happily ever after...the bears, that is!