Antique Wooden Pepsi Crate!

Attention Dusty Old Crate Fans!

I know you're out there! eBay is full of weirdos collecting all kinds of crap. Mojo knows this because Mojo is one of 'em! When I am not collecting weird crap I am doing other weird things. Like now. I was just now standing outside in the pouring rain just because it was pouring rain. Really pouring rain. It's something I try to do at least once a summer. Not when it's thundering and lightning, though. Mojo might be a weirdo, but she is NOT stupid.

But now that I am back inside and towelled off so I'm not dripping on the keyboard, here is one weird thing Mojo is NOT collecting and would much rather have it out of her house. It's an old Pepsi crate my Favorite Mother gave me. She had it in her sewing room, but don't ask me why. If there is one thing Mojo has learned in her life it is "Don't ask a quilter 'why' about anything".

"Why?" you are now asking, since you know Mojo is not a quilter. (You fool, you. Yes, Mojo is not a quilter per se, but she is RELATED to one so she is just as bad if not worse. How could she be worse? Well, when you have a Talented Mother and you yourself have no real talents to speak of--not to mention three other siblings, and you are the Forgotten Middle Child--you become so Desperate For Attention people start to avoid you, which only makes you that much more socially parasitical. But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yeah, "Why?") Because quilters are a Special Breed. Let's face it: anyone who takes yards and yards of perfectly good fabric, cuts it up into tiny squares and triangles, and then sews it back together again is a person to be Reckoned With. That is the polite way Mojo has of saying she privately thinks they're weirdos, but she will not say that to their face. No, Mojo is one of those cowardly types who just smile and nods a lot and then runs home to complain bitterly about people. Not that Mojo really has much to complain about quilters. They are actually fairly cool people who hopefully can take a joke. We'll find out, won't we? Or at least Mojo will find out. And unfortunately quilters tend to be armed with little sharp pointy things.

Mojo has tried--part of the pathetic attention-getting, huh?--but she just doesn't get it. She is lucky she can sew a button back on a shirt, let alone create something you could cover a bed with. One time I DID sew a pair of jams, using my mother's sewing machine. The fabric had fish all over it. I called them my Fish Jams. But that is the extent of my sewing experience. I can appreciate quilts and I know a good deal about them through osmosis, and indeed I have several to commemorate various events in my life, but that's really the extend of it.

So don't get Mojo talking about quilts or quilting. Plus, everyone knows now you don't get Mojo talking about soda. Unlike quilts, Mojo has never liked soda. Not even when she was a kid. Can't stand the stuff. Well, maybe that's a bit too strong. I CAN drink it if I am dying of thirst and there is nothing else in the whole entire world to drink. But I don't care for it.

The rest of my family is MAD about it, however. Especially Pepsi. I don't know why. I can't tell Pepsi from Coke from Generic Store Brand Cola. I can't tell diet from regular. I can't tell grape from orange, except for the color. But my family has always drunk Pepsi. I don't think they've drunk Pepsi for as long as this crate's been around, but then again I don't know how long this crate's been around or where it came from. It's one of those wooden things that used to hold the individual bottles. Now they are cheap plastic--both the crates and the bottles--but this one is made out of wood with metal straps protecting the ends. It's a bit faded, as you can see, but the wood is in pretty good shape except for one knothole that's broken off.

If you happen to have twenty-four antique Pepsi bottles and you are just tearing your hair out trying to figure out how to display them ...well, Mojo really doesn't have a clue. Sorry. Mojo is NOT an interior decorator by ANY stretch of the imagination. But if you'd like a big dusty old wooden box, with the odd cobweb still lurking in one or two of the twenty-four bottle-sized slots, boy are you in luck. Or if you would really really like a Certificate of Craptacularity, you are also in luck, so long as you take the big dusty old wooden box that comes with it. Sorry, but that's the deal....