The bulk pick-up by the city is coming next week. I am jazzed. This service is probably THE most amazing civic opportunity next to the right to vote! When we moved from the Earll house to this one almost 4 years ago, we out-did ourselves by heaping up the mega pile of all junk piles. It was as long as our property and half as tall as the house. It was a work of art.
Somehow just knowing the little Bobcat tractor with her crew of 2 is coming makes me crazy to dump out drawers, organize closets and sift aggressively through dusty, disgusting stuff we have totally forgotten about in the "outter darkness" of our garage. I am brave - able to sweep roof rat doodies like a man. I am ruthless - tossing aside pitiful arm loads of stuff I was saving for no good reason, and giving the boot to things that are O.K. but never used. I am generous - cramming about a dozen bags and boxes with donations to Deseret Industries; yardage of cute fabric I never did anything with, a collection of perfectly good lace trim, lots of clothes, shoes and books that someone else might enjoy. I am fearless - stuffing the trunk and back seat of the car with linens and games and pillows for the African Immigrants who were burned out of their apartment after arriving in America only a few months ago. I picked some of the nicest quality twin sheet sets that still had their matching pillow cases. I am optimistic - STILL waiting for the "Welcome to America" truck to come and pick up our furniture donations that are waiting on the front porch.
I am in shock - someone in the night took the entire jumbo-sized box full of CRAP. The next night they took the decapitated office chair. Neither item enjoyed a full 24 hours on display at the street. My plans for creating a great pile of rubbish are foiled! How dare these night-grabbers rob me of my glorious pile? Now that I have a blog I was going to take a picture of it, once it had attained its full grandeur and I had pronounced the work "done".
I am strategical: I will horde my garbage in the back yard until the last possible moment, and then rush it out to the street on the day our area begins pick up. I am the Queen of all trash I survey. None shall deny me my pile.
2 comments:
Oh, Ms. C - you are robbing the neighborhood of the grand and glorious tradition that is called "junk swapping". Some of the furniture in our house came from our neighbors' curbside piles. There is only one rule of this fine tradition - you have to grab the junk in the dark of the night. Well, that is not really a written rule, nor is it enforceable. I just find that I am totally embarrassed to grab it in broad daylight. I'll have to post my neighborhood finds for you to see how cute they are when they are painted and restored to their original glory.
Now that I know your plan, I may have to invite myself over and find a reason to excuse myself to your backyard, and peruse your sacred artistic pile-o-junk. (hmmm, but then how do I get to it in the dark of night . . . I'll have to continue thinking through that plan.)
Me thinks you misunderstand: I myself have whisked several great "finds" off the curb AND in broad daylight.
However, in this instance, when I say "garbage", "rubbish", "trash" - I mean refuse, waste, no useful purpose whatsoever unless that is you care to find a reason to use 20 year old pillows flat as paper and stained by 5 kids worth of night nose bleeds or worse... yeah. I THOUGHT SO.
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