Posted tagged ‘dump runs’

“Autumn’s the mellow time.”

September 19, 2014

Where are the cheers, the accolades, the parades? This has been my most productive week in a long time. I went off cape one night and was busy every day doing errands and chores. I even paid the dreaded bills. I feel so accomplished.

Fall is so much quieter than summer. Kids are in school so I don’t hear them playing outside any more. The lawns don’t get mowed as much. Nobody is out on their decks at nights. Windows are closed as the nights get downright cold. I always think of this time of year as a dress rehearsal for winter.

Today is dump day, and I need to go to the grocery store for just a few things.

The town where I grew up had a dump, but I never went there. The trash was picked up off the sidewalk by men in big trucks so there wasn’t any need for a dump run. My friend’s house was right near the dump, but it wasn’t what you’d expect living close to the dump because you couldn’t smell it. The dump wasn’t for household trash but for things like fridges and old furniture. The cape has no trash services, no trucks, no men hauling barrels. We all go to the dump or pay for private trash companies. The old dump had giant hills of trash. From the highway you could see the trash hills and the seagulls circling them hoping to find food. From way off you could smell the dump and you could hear the caws of the seagulls, noisy birds. You found a spot and you threw your trash bags. That was my father’s dump. He wouldn’t enjoy going to the dump much now. There are bins for trash and no trash can be loose. There is a huge line of recycle bins. There aren’t any seagulls.

“The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder.”

November 10, 2012

The day is pretty with sun and a blue sky. It’s also a bit chilly at 48˚.  A breeze is blowing. Not many leaves are left on the trees after the nor’easter. My lawn has disappeared again. I noticed tattered prayer flags from my backyard are hanging off one of the branches near the deck. They are the worse for wear.

Yesterday was dump day, movie day and get pet food day. Whew, it was a busy day. I’m still recovering.

My town where I grew up had a dump for things too big for the trucks. It was filled with piles of junk. I don’t ever remember my father going to the dump. We had curb-side trash pick-up, and my dad hauled out the barrels every week and hauled them back in when he got home from work. When we moved to the Cape, my dad had to go to the dump every week as there was no trash pick-up. He really liked his dump runs and tried to cajole one of us into going with him as if it were a treat, a stop for ice cream. The dump in those days was raucous from the sounds of the sea gulls flying all around the trash heaps. You could even see those heaps from the highway and the birds circling around them.

Dumps now are civilized with recycle and trash bins. No more seagulls. They have to look elsewhere for a tidbit. My father wouldn’t enjoy the dump at all. The excitement is gone.

The paper mentioned that movies are probably on their way out usurped by short attention spans and television. The films which make money usually have the shallowest depths. The article suggested that Gone with the Wind wouldn’t make it with today’s audiences: too long. I’d also add it has no “hilarious” drunken scenes, not a single vampire or slasher and no sex.

I am an anachronism, and I don’t care. Actually I’m rather proud of that!

“I know a man who doesn’t pay to have his trash taken out. How does he get rid of his trash? He gift wraps it, and puts in into an unlocked car.”

April 2, 2012

The rain started last night, and I woke up to a rainy morning. I heard it on the roof and I heard it dripping from the eaves, but the rain has since stopped leaving behind a dark, cloudy day. The dampness makes it feel colder than it actually is. I have a few errands on my list, but I’m thinking today is a good day to stay home and while the time away in a good book.

Gracie and I went to the dump yesterday, and it was as crowded as I’ve seen it in a long time. I was in a line of cars waiting for a spot near the newspaper recycle bin. The trash bins too had a line so Gracie stuck her head out the window to get a better view while I just sat in the car and waited. I watched the people as they went about dump business: emptying trunks and walking from recycle bin to recycle bin.

When I was a kid, we always had trash men who hung on to the backs of the trucks as they went from house to house. They’d hop off, grab the barrels, empty them then toss the barrels back on the sidewalks. When the back of the truck got filled, the trashman would grab a lever and the top of the bin would come down and compact the trash. I thought that was sort of neat, and it was definitely noisy. My father usually brought the barrels back to the yard when he’d get home from work.

When we moved to the cape, my father loved the dump runs every Sunday. If we had company, they were always invited to join him as if it were a lark, a fun ride. The dump back then was a real dump with huge piles of trash and seagulls circling above them. You could see the dump and its trash from the highway. The cans always shined in the sun. I know when my parents moved off-cape my dad must have missed his dump. Putting trash cans on the sidewalk just didn’t have the same allure.

When I was working, I always went to the dump on Sunday. It was, after all, a family tradition.


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