I chickened out. I’m kicking myself over it.
Monday morning is the best morning to take a walk around the neighborhood because that is the day all large “trash” items are put out on the curb to be taken to the landfill. It’s sick really, to see what people consider trash. Oh, there is honest-to-goodness trash out there: limbs from trees, splintered boards, packaging (though even that could be reused; almost everything can be reused). But sometimes there’s perfectly good stuff.
One day I picked up an old wooden ladder and a plastic frog sandbox… and proceeded to drive away with such excitement and embarrassment that I whipped out in front of an oncoming car. The car was going slowly enough to wait for this crazy trash-picking lady.
But seriously, what are people thinking? This morning, one house had an overstuffed armchair, at least eight plastic patio chairs, a glass patio tabletop, and a couple plastic trashcans. Come on, if they haven’t heard of Freecycle, couldn’t they at least donate the stuff?
It was that armchair I was eying. I was imagining how I singlehandedly would lift it into the trunk of my car, grab a few patio chairs to stuff next to Isaiah in the backseat, and drive away with glee. But there were cars in front of the house, and I just knew someone would see me. I know. Dumb. What a weenie I am.
Too bad I wasn’t sensible enough to use my courage to just knock on their door and ask them if I could take a few things off their hands. Is that the first step in combatting America’s waste?
