I pulled into the driveway, back from a business trip, at 3 in the morning and my headlights came across this in the midsummer darkness:

At first, I didn't know what it was. When I figured it out, I stood in the driveway laughing so loud that I would have awaken the neighbors, if we had any.

Twenty-four years ago this summer, some friends pitched in and gave us a bench as a wedding present. We plunked it on the edge of the yard, where you could get a nice view of the garden and the house. Over the years, the bench became a favorite summer spot, the setting for hours of conversation and the consumption of barrels of wine, beer and other items.

By last spring, we were still married, but the bench was shot. The slats had grown grey and splintery, like an old lobster trap; the green tinge of lichens made it unhospitable. The black iron fittings had gone rusty.

One day in March I looked out at the yard, and, fearing that our house and yard was getting away from me and I was morphing into Little Edie, only without the mink coat,

I proclaimed: "Time to take that bench to the dump!"

But my husband Dan takes nothing to the dump without a good deal of deliberation.

I held strong.

So did he. That bench is perfectly fine. It's still got plenty of years left.

We finally compromised, he would dismantle the bench, save the ironwork.

Nope, let's get rid of that, too, I pushed. I don't wanna trip over those metal pieces around the yard.

I lost that one. Sort of.

Because he secretly rebuilt the bench. Which actually looks better than the original. And could have cost about $300, but didn't.

Dan lives by the Yankee philosophy, which is this:

       Use it up, wear it out;

       Make do, do without.

You can see more of his handiwork on this pimp-my-tractor website. Another one of his specialties. And he gets more hits than I do.

Sometimes this, er, thriftiness drives me nuts. When it comes time for a diamond upgrade, for example, I'm on my own.

But as I plunked my butt on that new bench in the driveway, exhausted from a week of workshops and 12 hours of travel, I was glad to be home and about to celebrate a 24th wedding anniversary with a kind and resourceful guy who still makes me laugh.

Never dreamed I would ever be doing that.

                                                                 --B.J. Roche

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