Classy GarbagePosted: August 11, 2013
The first year of my husband and I were married, our apartment windows faced the dumpster. We had a perfect view of watching the weekly garbage of our neighbors pile higher and higher until garbage pickup day. Sometimes the dumpster would start overflowing. Classy, I know.
The second year we were married, my husband and I burned our garbage at the farmhouse. Burning garbage is actually a more complicated procedure than I ever expected—or maybe we weren’t very good at it. Either way, the only way we could get the garbage on fire was to pour diesel fuel over it first and even then not everything burned. We had a fine collection of stray cats arrive after garbage burning day to pick over our rotten fruit and rancid meat bits. Then the drought arrived and created a burn ban, so we spent the summer asking our landlord to take some of our garbage to his house and driving the rest to a friend’s apartment complex’s dumpster. Classy, I know.
The third year we were married, we hauled our garbage to the church’s dumpster. At first this was only a minor annoyance but then came the never ending winter with its massive piles of snow. It took two of us to haul the trashcan through a foot of snow and heave it over the snow banks. Of course, there was always the chance that we would time our trash drop-off wrong and face a full dumpster. That meant that one of us had to climb into the dumpster to stamp some of the garbage down. Classy, I know.
This year my husband and I decided that we were going to move up in the world and pay for garbage pickup at the farmhouse. So far it’s been amazing: We just throw our garbage into our heavy duty trashcan and haul it to the end of the driveway on Monday nights. No more watching (and supposedly smelling) overflowing dumpsters, no more worrying about whether a bit of garbage would burn, and no more heaving a trashcan’s contents into a dumpster. We just throw our garbage into the can and someone else takes care of it. I feel so classy!