Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Reader, I trashed them. I trashed them all. The ones that didn’t get trashed went to the burn pile so we can have a superior bonfire later this fall, a bonfire that will be visible from surrounding hilltops, a bonfire that will declare my independence from old junk, my own and other people’s.
The cellar is empty except for stuff we actually use. The canning shelves have been braced up with actual 4 x 4s cut to length instead of with an assemblage of wood that was rotten to begin with and then wedged in as needed, so whatever I get to can these next few weeks, why, it will stay up on the shelves and not end in a slick of glass and despair on the floor.
The Dumpster went away yesterday via a talented fellow in a big truck with an impressive hook-thingie that scoops up the loop on the container and hauls the whole menacingly rocking item onto the truck back. This is fascinating to watch; it obviously requires some skill. And now the Dumpster is all gone, and we can use our driveway again, and most of the dumb things I have ever done have been taken to the landfill to return most charitably to the Earth.
And the burn pile? If I were any good with Photoshop, I would make you a LOLcat smirking in front of the pile with a can of gasoline.
The past? I burnz it.