When refuse becomes garbage
After all my anticipation I almost missed the party. I blame it on the snowplough, but it could have been the result of a misunderstanding.
Seeing that the pile of snowblocks at the end of our short and extremely narrow driveway had effectively hidden the refuse bins from view, I decided to do the push/shove/mutter motion and move both Blue and Green out onto the street. They’ve both put on weight during the holidays, so getting them aligned with the axis of transportation required fortitude. When my neighbour (and a second passerby) mentioned in seasonal chorus that the recycle truck had already passed, I wasn’t impressed. Seems that nowadays, if the operator can’t snag the bin with his “Canadarm”, he just continues on his merry way. Merry Christmas; NOT.
I made a quick reevaluation of the situation. If your recycle doesn’t get taken away for processing, it has implicitly become garbage. Right? The thought of waiting two more weeks, while holding every single box and paper and empty tin in waiting didn’t appeal to my logical side, however strong my ecological side might be. With little hesitation, I transferred as much of that valuable collection into the green “burn baby burn” bin, patted the lid farewell and hid inside.
There was some discussion (the two operators on the munchwagon), but eventually my green bin emptied out. Sometime after dark, we wheeled the pair back to their holes in the snowbank and realized that it doesn’t take much to upset the structure of society. Or my sense of peace.
