The Great Garbage Caper

 

         What a truly odd day.  

          After a pleasantly slow start – tea, toast, reading – I put on my yoga togs and prepared to leave. As I opened the door leading to the garage, I managed to bang my big toe – my bad toe that was already having iffy nail issues after stubbing it two days before. Blood ensued, but I slapped on a band-aid, put on my sandals, and headed into the garage.

          First, though, I needed to bring in the trash cart and the recycle bins since the garbage men had already made their Friday morning visit at 8:30. Going around the back of my car and into the driveway, I looked and nothing waited on the curb to be brought in. No bins and no trash cart. We love this trash cart deeply. It’s a sturdy blue plastic garden cart that’s just the right size to hold the bins, will turn on a dime with its big wheels, and has a long handle for pulling it.

          Gone. On my way to yoga I stopped alongside out trash guy. Nope, he hadn’t seen it.

 My Guy put out the trash last night around 12:30, and we figure that between then and 6:30 (Which is as far back as our Nest garage camera logged movement) someone must have taken it.

          Okay, I get that someone would steal the cart, but our bins? Full of old newspapers, plastics, 1 can, 1 wine bottle, two ratty garage rugs and a disassembled cardboard box? And our black bag full of actual garbage?

          (The only logical explanation is my past of working summers at the CIA -yes, I really did – is catching up with me, and there are teams even now sifting through my banana peels and eggshells.)

 

          Currently, My Guy is off to the giant retailer to see about getting another cart (which I hope we can get them to assemble this time. The first one was a nightmare) and I’m here with a throbbing toe – turns out a banged toe does not appreciate Down Dog.

 Oh, and to add to the merriment, a nice man came at noon and shampooed the bedroom rugs upstairs and down, so much of that furniture is now piled in the living room with little hope of order being restored till tomorrow when the rugs are dry.

          Icing on the cake? I’m on a suicide watch for my big toenail, which is showing definite signs of abandoning ship.  

Life Lessons

Ages ago – and I mean ages – and in another life, I was at the local Milton Bradley factory taping a brief clip of the production lines.  It was a segment for a small cable children’s show that I produced and shot with a friend.

Bathtub Blues

           I have made progress in life, really. I’m no longer spreading newspapers on the kitchen floor, spraying caustic, lye-based, skin-searing cleaner into my oven, and then 20 minutes later on my hands and knees with my bright yellow rubber gloves (and breath held) wiping that cleaner out with 1,000 paper towels.

At the Wheel Again

          On Sunday I met my partner-in-pottery-crime to try out the pottery studio in my town. It’s a brand-new venture, run by two young women who started from different places, but they seem to have melded together successfully as business partners.

Haven

 

        By sheer dumb luck, when we moved to this condo we hit the jackpot as far as a backyard went.

Garabaldi Search

 

Garibaldi search

No, not Giuseppi, the Italian revolutionary from the 1800s.

What handicap?

 

          I’ve been dodging my golf league, which is strict about score-keeping, for the past two weeks, but today I broke down and played. Being a middling-to-poor player, I’m tired of perpetually being teamed with those in the top division. I’m even guilty of signing up to play because I know there’s a 99% chance of rain that day (as I did last week).