Trash Day

31 Jul

Y’all. I have a problem with Trash Day.

 

I know what you’re thinking and you’re right. You’re totally, totally right. What’s so hard about Trash Day? You bag your trash, you put it out, the gentlemen pick it up, you take your can back, you’re done. Super simple.

 

Except I didn’t grow up with trash day, so…yeah. I mean, I grew up in the middle of nowhere. The thought of trash pick-up services coming to my parents’ house is laughable. If you look at their house from Google Earth, you’ll see an alien landscape. The Texas Panhandle is a gorgeous place, perhaps a bit of an acquired taste to some, but it’s beautiful. Google Earth did us no favors, though. I’m pretty sure they chose the driest, most dismal looking time of the year to photograph my parents’ house and it looks like they live on Tatooine. Seriously.

 

 

Because I couldn’t get the actual Google Earth pic to work, here’s an old-timey view…

 

…and present day. Well kinda. This was taken during a drought in 2011, which is basically what the Google Earth pictures look like.

 

 

And so my parents won’t yell at me for such harsh depictions of our homeland, here’s the Canadian River which runs through my hometown. Now if that isn’t beautiful, then I don’t know what is.

 

So, yeah. Garbage pick-up didn’t happen at our house. And honestly, I’m assuming garbage pick-up happens in the actual town of Canadian, but I’m too country to even know if that’s a thing. Guys, do you hear me? I’m so country I don’t even know if the town of 2,000 people had trash trucks. Surely they do. But I don’t know. Geez. All I know is Dad would load up all the trash in the back of his truck and take it to town to one of the many public dumpsters that were around, toss it in, and that’d be it. No big deal.

 

Here’s the thing about me. I know Trash Day is every Thursday. My problem is that I’ll remember this fact on Monday, Tuesday, and on Wednesday morning at approximately 3 a.m. After that time, Trash Day escapes my mind only to re-enter it when I hear the actual truck passing my house. I think it’s probably a serious medical problem.

 

And get this…there are no public dumpsters around here. So, when I miss Trash Day, I toooootally miss Trash Day. The Panhandle girl in me is irritated by this, simply for the fact that I’d like to be self sufficient. I mean, I can dump my own trash. It’s really no big deal. It’s nice of y’all to offer to pick it up, but I got this. Thankyouverramuch.

 

And then there’s the fact that our deep freezer was accidentally shut off the other day. (Thank you, dear children, you precious cherubs, you.) So we had some meat that went bad. So basically, I could not miss Trash Day this week.

 

And then there’s the fact that one of our trash cans needs to be thrown away. Now, if this was the middle of nowhere, I’d just toss my own garbage can and be on my way. But noooo, here in the city I’m left figuring out how the hell to get rid of a trash can with no bottom. 

 

I tried leaving a note, but the gentlemen who take our trash apparently don’t read politely worded notes on the pizza boxes they’re ramming into the back of their truck. Who knew?

 

Also, in the winter the garbage truck comes around in the afternoon. In the summer apparently it’s earlier. And it’s taken me all summer to realize that this is not just a random, “hey, they’re early today” kind of thing and it’s more of an, “oh, that’s just what they do” kind of thing. I’m thick.

 

So this morning, as I was attempting to get Senor Wiggle-Britches to take a nap for the love of all that is good and holy and refereeing the squabbling girls, I heard the melodic sound of the garbage truck at my doorstep. So I dumped the baby into his crib with his bottle, the way they tell you never to do, you know? And I ran outside in my bare feet like a bra-less wild woman to haul the rotting meat filled crap can to the curb.

 

And I made it. I was even able to ask the young man to just toss the whole damn thing in the truck and I thanked him for his troubles. Win, win, and win!

 

I was congratulating myself pretty heavily as I made my way back to the backyard. Because, I won Trash Day today, guys. I. Won.

 

Except that I totally didn’t.

 

Because there sits our other garbage can, completely full of trash and waiting for that magical journey to the curb.

 

I’m sorry, old buddy. You’ll have to wait till next week. Or the week after that. Or whenever.

 

 

Image 1 Source. Image 2 Source. Image 3 Source.

Advertisements

8 Responses to “Trash Day”

  1. John McGarr July 31, 2014 at 10:46 am #

    Yes, there are trash trucks in Canadian. Actually, they have just finished switching over the horse-drawn trucks to the steam powered kind, so all is good.

    Good story; you are a writing fool this week.

    • ohblessyourheart July 31, 2014 at 10:51 am #

      I knew you’d have a smarty pants comment, so I’m glad you responded so very promptly. Love you, Daddy!

  2. Granny Garr July 31, 2014 at 11:37 am #

    Back in the day when I was growing up, we had a trash barrel that was set afire once a week or so. I’m not sure, maybe it was set on fire every time we took out the trash. We burned everything. Your Nanane was craving excitement, I guess, in our Fritch, TX, home and she was out watching the flames when a bottle exploded and a piece hit her in the leg. Of course, her skin is as delicate as the rest of her and she had to have 3 stitches. She carries the scar to this day. So, trash days have always seemed challenging!

    • ohblessyourheart July 31, 2014 at 11:38 am #

      Ha! Well I guess I won’t be lighting ours in fire any time soon!

  3. layne August 1, 2014 at 1:25 am #

    did you write this because you somehow knew john and i both missed trash day this week? you did, didn’t you? i’m not even mad. i’m impressed.

    and i love your writing so much.

    • ohblessyourheart August 1, 2014 at 10:12 pm #

      See, this is why we’re friends. You flatter me AND you miss trash day…BFFFL.

  4. haleyherber August 5, 2014 at 11:35 am #

    DUDE. I have the hardest time with trash day too for the same reason. I’m almost always forgetting. And if I had a dollar for every time I ran out of my house braless like a crazy woman to take the garbage when I heard the truck coming. I really feel like me and the garbage guys have really got to know each other on a personal level.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: