|What's wrong with this picture?|
There seemed to be part of it missing.
I could see a gaping, oddly shaped hole on the side.
And there was a blue piece of something in the road.
It took me until I was down the road aways to realize it was broken, a piece had apparently fallen out when they hucked it onto the truck to empty it.
(That's says something about how cold it was the night before. It must have made the plastic so brittle it just shattered when smacked down.)
So I dutifully called up the recycling people and reported my discovery.
They didn't seem overly concerned.
"Well," said the lady at the other end of the line. "We have a truck that comes 'round to make exchanges and drop-offs every Friday."
That's good, I thought, since it's already Wednesday.
|The missing piece|
I calculated in my mind. That's at least a week away and we regularly fill up our recycle bin faster than our regular waste bin because we take so many newspapers.
Maybe with a little planning, we could make it until then.
But she went on.
"If we don't get it on that Friday, just keep putting it out until we do," she said.
OK. That would mean every Friday for the foreseeable future we would be setting an empty container on our curb hoping the Good Fairy would take it away and leave a new one.
Our neighbors would get all mixed up because we all rely on one another to see if it's recycle day. If one bin is put out, everybody's comes out.
If it's empty, it'll blow over and away.
If we fill it, they won't take it. This could go on for weeks.
Such a dilemma. Such a pickle (especially in light of the world's real problems).
I think I'm going to have to arrange to borrow space in somebody's.
Can we use yours?