When I came home from work Thursday night, I noticed Helaine had (as usual) taken the trash to the curb for pickup.
When Steffie was in school we put out three cans a week. Now, it’s usually two. This week – one!
I’m sure going to miss the dumpster when it leaves us – probably Monday morning.
Astoundingly, the dumpster has become a status symbol. Helaine tells me she’s spread the word to some friends, all of whom expressed envy and one of whom has already rented one of her own!
Only 22 feet long? Poseur!
Today, as I was carrying out another load from the attic, I noticed our next door neighbor Margie standing at the dumpster’s door. She was on her cellphone, but looking at the dumpster.
It’s OK. Earlier we told her to take advantage. We’ll never fill it alone.
I lifted the long rod connected to the safety latch and pushed the door open. She looked in and gave me an approving smile.
The unfinished portion of our basement is the most astounding part of this epic saga. It’s as if an extra 50% was added to its capacity. Walls, which had been growing in toward the center, are now back where they belong.
Every year, when our oil company sends someone to clean and adjust our furnace, I apologize for the condition of the basement. No more. We now have a model basement. He can bring a camera next time!
Next, I took another swipe at the attic. There’s stuff you just can’t throw out. It’s stuff I’ll never use and haven’t touched for years. It is, in essence, sacred to me.
When does one get the intestinal fortitude to heave it all? How long after it’s gone before it’s needed?
Even with dumper’s remorse, I made a bunch of trips to the dumpster. As layers peeled away, I unearthed some more interesting finds.
There’s a photo of Helaine and me, taken at a charity pajama party in Buffalo, circa 1983. I was sitting with a cigarette in my fingers.
Ugh! I quit smoking late in 1984 and never looked back. Best move I ever made.
Another photo, an oversize publicity photo from work here in Connecticut, shows me with our news anchors, John Lindsay and Janet Peckinpaugh and our sports director, Bob Picozzi. They’re all long gone and I’m totally out-of-touch with them, though I heard Bob calling a college basketball game last night.
Is there more to be found? Tomorrow I attack my office.
Who would have though a dumpster would fill up so much blog space?