For those of you who know me well, this will make you laugh.
On Tuesday night when Dustin went out to get trash ready for the next morning, I said in a rush, “don’t forget to get the recycle ready too!”. They only pick up recycle items every other week, and we recycle A LOT. We never miss recycle day. On Wednesday night when I came home, I realized we were the only house on our street with a recycle can out front. It was late – really late for me – and I just didn’t feel like waking up the dogs by dragging that stupid can around to the backyard, so I shrugged it off and figured one of us would get it (Dustin if I left it long enough) the next day.
Morning rolled around bright and early – especially early thanks to Alex’s new routine of getting both of us up at 5:00 a.m. – and I quite purposely ignored the recycle can still sitting at the curb. Later that morning, Mom and I had some shopping to do so we buckled Alex into the car and Mom made a comment on our way out about the recycle can to which I asked if this week was in-fact recycle week, just in case every other neighbor on our street was wrong and today was in fact recycle day. Nope, I had it all wrong, but I chose to continue to ignore it a little while longer. I mean after all, it had sat there all morning, what were a few more hours? We arrived back home and again I walked right past it without so much as a glance. Thankfully Alex got busy and I happily forgot about it.
That’s when it happened. I was in our bedroom, which faces the front of the house, when I heard what sounded like a big gust of wind out front. Unfortunately my negligence in moving that annoying recycle can was about to catch up with me. Every time we have a particularly windy day, the can falls over and I end up having to pick up a few boxes or cans that fall out of the top. As I’m thinking about how annoyed I will be when the can falls over, the house starts to shake a little, and I have my second thought, as I’m walking to the window to see the damage – “oh, it’s not wind, it’s a big truck going down the street”. Every now and then we get a big truck from the nearby construction, or even the UPS trucks sometimes make a big commotion going down our street. I felt a moment of relief that I wouldn’t have to deal with the recycle can after all just before I peered through the blinds and saw – nothing. No truck going by, and no recycle can where it should be – or where it would be if it had blown over.
As I start searching for my missing can, I glance up higher and stare in horror (and fascination, I’ll admit) at my recycle can, several feet off the ground, moving across the road, as the lid lifts open and my recycle begins to swirl in a circle out of the can and up into the air. I couldn’t believe it – a little cyclone had my recycle can and was graciously blowing my recycle into the air around my neighborhood. ARE YOU KIDDING? What universe would be this cruel to me?!? Meanwhile, as I am quickly pondering my options, my recycle can is unceremoniously dropped into my neighbor’s yard across the street, my recycled items are slowly drifting back down to earth and landing everywhere possible, and a small circular cloud of papers are traveling ever upward into the sky. Of all the luck. Seriously! While I gave the idea of pretending I didn’t know it had happened and waiting for Dustin to get home so he could clean it up a good five second consideration, I knew every moment meant more distance to go to clean up. Mom came to play with Alex so I could chase down last week’s newspaper along with every piece of paper I had just tossed into the recycle bin. I mean, I was the only house on the street with their recycle can out front – it’s not like the neighbors wouldn’t have known where it came from. And as I chased down the last piece of paper (ten houses down on the opposite side of the road) I almost laughed at the craziness of it all.
If you aren’t laughing hysterically at this point, then you don’t know me well enough, so let me just give you some frame of reference for how absolutely and utterly ridiculous it was that something like this would happen to me, of all people. Think Mr. Monk and the episode where he had to go down into the sewer. Yep, it was really that bad. OK, maybe not quite that bad, because I don’t think you could get me to set foot in the sewer, but it seemed almost that bad at the time.
For happier news, Dad sent my camera off to be fixed when we returned from Washington because a mysterious light “bar” started showing up in all of my pictures and quite honestly I cried to think of all the pictures I would never be able to take again since the unattractive light kept showing up on people’s heads and the only way to avoid the problem was to cut everyone’s heads out of the picture. Well, my camera has returned from the camera doctors good as new. Alex and I took a trip downtown today to try out the camera. Here are a couple of shots of us at the Visitors Center and on the Capitol grounds.
Fixing the camera doesn’t make the one taking pictures a better photographer, but at least now I can practice again!