Hi, my name is Zefi and I’m a junkaholic.

I know I have a problem.

I admit it. Don’t they say admitting it is half the battle?

But what if I don’t want to change?

I’m like Harry… “No Zefi, NO! Don’t look in the tip shop!”

“I. Can’t. Help. It. Its. So. Beauuuuutiful! ARRRRGGGGHHHH”

I feel for Harry.

Yesterday on the way home through Margate, I couldn’t resist the pull of the Re-Use Shop.

This afternoon, I couldn’t resist the tug of another junk shop.

Ok. Two.

Alright.

Three.

Sheesh.

I started off with some money in my pocket and now (don’t tell Wayne) I owe $43 on things I’ve ‘put aside’ with my name on them.

I just can’t help it!

And I don’t want to be cured. I like this disease.

I mean, I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t do drugs. What’s one teeny weeny addiction?

It ain’t hurting anyone!

Today’s haul included some rusty hinges, some lovely old spoons, a collection of old deep fryer baskets (I have a cunning plan for them!) and a galvanised milk bottle carrier.

As well as this little cutie:

And this (really? A rabbit decoupaged with cats?)

And yes, another poodle. But I have this fellow’s brothers so I had to complete the family.

Well. No one’s perfect.

z