Friday is garbage day on my street. Every other Friday is recycling day as well, because you know, California is so progressive in its quest to save our Earth. We recycle in our house, mainly newspapers, junk mail and laundry detergent bottles. Oh and aluminum cans and plastic bottles but those items get sorted and saved for a trip to the recycling center. So on Thursday nights, we clean out the fridge, empty all the trash cans in the house and haul our HUGE, industrial strength, city provided, thank goodness it's on wheels, can down the alley to the street. We live in what's called a back house, a house behind a house, so our curb is not right outside our front door. It's not something you normally consider when you are looking for a place to live but believe me, it's on my list for our next domicile.
CeCe usually gets the job of getting the can ready to wheel out and after supper we take a leisurely stroll, in our comfy clothes and slippers, under the cover of darkness (depending on the time change) and go park that bugger near the curb, facing the correct direction, otherwise the trash would not make it into the garbage truck. Oh, we don't have guys who ride around on the back of the garbage truck like we do back home, hanging on for dear life while their buddy speeds around corners, jumping off at just the right moment to grab our neighbor's assorted hodge podge of receptacles, launching the junk into the gaping mouth of that hungry machine waiting for it's next meal. Our garbage trucks, here, in the land of millions of people and tons and tons of trash, is an automated one. It requires only one person and a cool contraption that lifts the cans, heaves them into the air and dumps them into the back end. Okay, it is way cooler than it sounds. Easy, economical and nobody gets their hands dirty or risks broken limbs to do the job.
Driving through my neighborhood on my way to work on Fridays, I almost always see at least one person who depends on recycling Fridays, probably getting up before the birds, walking the same route, relying on the people of Normal Heights (our cool, eclectic neighborhood) to throw out something worthwhile or at the very least, to put cans or water bottles in their recycling bin. This is their livelihood. Their job. What they depend on to get themselves through the week. The gentleman I saw today had his cart, fully loaded with the aforementioned cans and bottles, big black garbage bags stuffed, moving from blue can to blue can, lifting the lid, hoping against hope that there would be something in there to help him buy his next meal.
I can't read the minds of the people I see doing this. I can only assume that they are doing this to survive. As most of you know the economy is really in the tank out here. Sky rocketing unemployment leaves thousands of people homeless here in San Diego, living on the streets, in their cars, under car ports, in friend's garages, and if they are lucky, at a shelter. Makes me thankful for what I do have.
Which leads me to the 'life isn't always easy' part. We bitch and moan and complain about this and that, him and her, government, politics, the weather, traffic, bills to pay, what to eat for supper, the dogs, the kids, and everything else. Seeing somebody foraging through other peoples left overs made me think about the good things in life.
I have a job that I like, a car that runs, clothes on my back, food in my belly, a roof over my head and people who love me. I can pay my bills with a little left over for other stuff. My family has been blessed with no serious illnesses, disease or death. Soon there will be a new baby, making my sister a grandmother, ensuring that our Fish genes live on. Life is good for me. And for you, if you think about it. So, do just that. Think about what makes your life a good one. Not the things you own, but the people you have. Family, friends, co-workers, neighbors. Be grateful. Be thankful.
PS. The title indicates that a potential disaster was averted. This story needs to be told right now! Last night, CeCe discovered the carton of eggs we had in the fridge was dated February 20! How they lasted that long in there is beyond me because she is kind of fanatical about throwing out food that has outlived its usefulness. The can had already been wheeled to the street so the nasty eggs were put in a plastic bag, set by the door with the promise that they would be personally delivered to the curb in the morning for a proper burial. Well, this morning came, her rushing to get ready for work, me with blog thoughts screaming through my brain and my body needing caffeine. The eggs were left on the dog food thingee, you know, the $40 unit I bought to store the dog food. Kibble something or other. I got ready for work, gave the pups their treats and headed to the gas station for smokes. As I'm already thinking ahead to the freeway and the thought of crazy traffic, an image of those eggs, in the plastic bag, sitting on the dog food thingee enters my mind. OMG! If left there, Bella will surely get into them, dragging egg yolk and shells all over the house, giving Gracie a reason to wake up and Maisy an excuse to quit scratching her ears! The mess would not be mine to clean up, as CeCe gets home before me, which would be a DISASTER! She loves the dogs, let me just say that first and foremost, but man, does she hate their messes and this one would have been a doozie! So, another reason to be thankful today. I saved the lives of my dogs...and my own!
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