The Purge

I love garbage day.
I mean I really, really love garbage day.
Perhaps more than a person should.
It would be fair to say I am obsessed with garbage day.
I count down the days until it arrives.
Looking forward to its ultimate arrival.
Every other Thursday.
I would say this obsession started when we moved to a municipality where garbage pickup is every other week.
Who can go two weeks without their garbage being picked up?
It seemed inhumane.
To expect us to hang on to our waste for two very long weeks.
Granted, recycling and compost is picked up every week.
And I guess the thought is that most waste is recyclable or compostable.
But it is amazing how that garbage can gets filled up so quickly.
By the time garbage day arrives, it is brimming.
Two large garbage bags or one can is the rule.
And it can’t weigh more than 45 pounds.
There was a time when our garbage man refused to take our can because it was too heavy.
He slapped a big yellow sticker on it telling us so.
Hence, we now have an old set of weigh scales in the garage to make sure our can doesn’t go over the limit.
Which is hard when you have cats because the used litter is quite heavy.
And which is difficult because we sometimes have things from around the house that we have thrown out. A bi-weekly purge of things that we don’t need anymore, don’t use anymore, are taking up too much room and have become clutter, including clothing or old shoes that are un-donatable.
If there is too much to fit in the big plastic garbage can in the garage, you can purchase a garbage bag tag for $3 and place it beside the can. Or you can take it to the landfill site yourself. Which is an exhilarating experience, I must say. So organized and efficient and expedient. A place for everything and everything in its place. Construction waste here, electronics here, plastics here, garbage there. Incredible.
And I don’t do compost – anymore.
A smelly plastic compost bin under the kitchen sink produced maggots one summer and that was that.
Everything into the garbage!
When that smell becomes overbearing or the kitchen can becomes full, out to the gargage and into the garbage can!
To listen for and to watch as the can is picked up each time is a miracle.
I give thanks every time that the handles on the plastic garbage can don’t break, and the garbage person is burly enough to even lift it.
A miracle unto itself.
I hope they have chiropractors on call.
I give a small hallelujah when he sets the empty can down, ever so gently, and places the lid beside it.
An empty can – we can start all over again.

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