The Junction
Published in

The Junction

Chat with Deb—Trash and Treasure

…and stuff in between

Hearth in our living room. Salvaged globe on the right; the thing on the left that looks like a headstone covered in ivy is, in point of fact, a headstone¹ covered in ivy. (photo by author)

I am walking up our driveway as Deb pulls up and into the garage. She’s been helping a friend of ours (Nancy) pack up to move north. Nancy’s husband is already working up there, and has hours not conducive to providing a high level of assistance, so Deb is helping. (Also, Deb’s organizational habits match with Nancy’s. Nancy’s husband, bless him, gets distracted by repacking things he hasn’t seen in years².)

ME: Welcome home, honey bunches! Success?

DEB: Yes, it went very well! I think we will have everything good to go by Wednesday at the latest!

ME: That’s my Debster! And the movers arrive…?

DEB: Thursday.

ME: Okay. Oh, I just got the mail, and so you know, one of the two chairs for trash pickup on our neighbor’s curb across the street is now on our curb.

DEB: I could not help but notice. Who moved it?

ME: Me. He was there when I got the mail, so I offered to put it out as our trash. That way he doesn’t have to worry about the “only one major item per trash day” rule³.

DEB: You didn’t just grab it?

ME: Debster! One does not just steal someone else’s trash!

DEB: Uh huh. Tell me again where the globe came from?

Many years ago, in the town where I grew up, there was an annual “big stuff” trash day. Anything you wanted rid of, you put on the curb, and some time during the week the trash haulers would come get it. Unless, of course, some neighbor wandered by, thought, “OMG that is absolutely fabulous! What sort of idiot would throw that out?” and abscond with it. Something like that might have happened with the 1930s-era globe that has been in my possession since the early 1970s. In my defense, a large number of people have complimented me on the fine antique that it is.

ME: So Nancy is packing up just fine, eh?

By the way, the next morning, before the trash trucks rolled through, the chairs — from both sides of the street — had vanished. They looked to be in pretty good shape, now that I think of it…

¹I explained about that earlier:

²Also, there might be occasional times where Nancy and Deb agree something is junk, and Nancy’s hubs might not agree. Better not to bother the poor fellow, eh?

³Sometimes the trash company is tough about the rule, other times not so much. Better to play it safe.

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Jack Herlocker

Jack Herlocker

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Husband & retiree. Developer, tech writer, & IT geek. I fill what’s empty, empty what’s full, and scratch where it itches. Occasionally do weird & goofy things.