Finding Direction: The Wind Vane Chronicles

Let's talk trash today.

No, I don't mean the current fad term "trash talking."  I mean talking about trash.  As in cans.  Trash cans.

Tom and I seem to generate a lot of trash.  (As opposed to garbage, which we differentiate from trash.  It's that generally wet and slimy refuse from food, etc, while trash is more of the paper and metal kind type, just to set the record straight in on the subject).  That was no problem because we had two reliable, durable, functional trash cans behind the apartment that have served us well for many years now.

They were large, dark green heavy duty plastic with lids, two black wheels and a black handle on one side that locked the lid down when in the upright position.  Worked fine, life was good.  We put either one or both of them out very early every Tuesday and Friday morning, depending on how consumptive we'd been or whether it was after Christmas or not.

Well, one of them got old and broke a few weeks ago.  The handle got loose and the garbage men, who aren't too careful, to say the least, managed to rip it entirely out and to leave it dangling from one side until it fell totally off.  Got trashed, in other words.

We're not laying any blame anywhere, but garbage men aren't the best when it comes to carefully handling trash cans, but I probably wouldn't be either, so we tried to be fair.  We'd just go buy another one and replace it.

It was a Rubbermaid and well constructed as such trash cans go.  We set out last weekend, after doing without for about two weeks and having a mountain of trash in bags piled up near the back patio door in this place, to get a replacement.

Being the optimistic sorts we thought we could just run down to the local small Home Depot (if you can imagine a small one, but there is such in Picayune, Mississippi, where nothing is quite like the rest of the world) and buy one.  Well we could.  For SEVENTY dollars!?!  

I mean - a trash can, for goodness sakes?!  We're not throwing away valuables like diamonds and pearls!  

There was no real selection other than only one nice (to be fair, but it ought to be for $70 bucks!) big plastic can and some big metal ones and their prices weren't marked (wonder why that was, you suppose?!)  So we grabbed the big plastic one with the flip over lid and rolled it to the garden checkout stand.  The lady rang it up.  We both nearly fainted and Tom became absolutely apopolectic.  He was beside himself.

"I don't think so," he kind of spurted out wildly to the checkout lady.  "We're not paying $70 dollars for a trash can.  I'm sorry."  She was nice about it.  After all, it wasn't her fault, but still we felt bad.  She was rolling it back to the trash can aisle as we left.

We headed to Super Wal-Mart next door (which is unlike any other Super Wal-Mart I've ever seen anywhere, either, but again, this is typical Picayune, Mississippi for those of you who have never entered the "real" deep south).  We found three plastic cans this time.  Kind of a pucky sickly grass green color and only $5.44 cents.  Cheap.  As in all the way around.

They were extremely (and I do mean extremely) flimsy and the lid wouldn't fit over one at all.  Period.  Not at all.  We passed.

We came home to our growing mountain of bagged trash and ruminated.  

"We're going to have to shop further, but there's no other place in Picayune to look," I glumly said to Tom.  He agreed.  This called for drastic action.  We were going to have to drive the 20 mile distance in my bigger Pathfinder to our old home town of Slidell, Louisiana, that mecca of shopping.  Well, if you live in Picayune, Mississippi that's how you look at it, anyway.  And we do.  Live in Picayune, Mississippi.  Not only that - we're getting ready to move out to the country in a couple of months!

 Anyway . . . we had the opportunity Tuesday afternoon when we went to Slidell to look at man made marble vanities.  That  shopping stop for the new house went well and we picked out a really pretty color for both bathrooms in the house.  Then we decided to try the fairly new Lowe's.

It is much nicer inside than Home Depot and seems a bit more upscale.  That worried us.  Although I had already told Tom we had to have a new trash can, no matter what, he insisted once again as we walked in that we were not paying any seventy dollars for any stupid trash can.  I acquiesed and thought I'd better pray about it.

In the other two stores we'd been to the trash cans were out in the garden department so we slowly wandered that direction, stopping to inspect all of the new grills along the way.  We actually have a brand new one from Sam's from last summer that Tom bought for the new house that is still in the box in storage, but he always likes to look.

We finally got to the garden department and found lots of pretty plants and neat outdoor furniture, but no trash cans.  I walked over and asked a couple of the workers where we might find them.  Oh, in Aisle 5, one told me.  We walked back inside.  We stopped along the way and picked up a couple of door racks for the inside of our pantry door for the new house.  We had one on the inside of the pantry door in the Slidell house and it seemed to double the pantry use.  Really handy for powdered sugar boxes and small boxed food and other smaller things.  Popcorn bottles and bags fit well, and you know how much popcorn we always have on hand.

We finally got to Aisle 5 and although the sign above the end of the aisle said clearly "Paint," there to our right down the aisle were a whole row of trash cans of all sizes, shapes and kinds.  The first one we saw, that was similar to the home from the small Picayune Home Depot, was a stupdendous $90!  We gasped.

But not to worry.  There a couple of trash cans down, were some wheeled, handled dark green plastic trash cans that looked nearly identical to what we already had, except that they weren't Rubbermaid.   And they were a totally reasonable (well, all things are relative in life) $21.38 apiece.  Success!  At last!  We grabbed one and tried the lid.  It fit!  We rejoiced.  Our dilemma was resolved.

All of this may seem to be a lot of trash talk to you, but you know - there's not much to do in Picayune, Mississippi when you live in a little brown apartment fulls of boxes for a year and you have to generate excitement where you can.  Obviously.  Or else we're slipping.  (Do you think?)

What I feel bad about is for those people who live here who never leave town and have no other choices.  The two choices we found here were pretty bad.  One way, way too expensive for the average working man and the other just a really cheap alternative that wouldn't have lasted three weeks.  You could have mowed the thing down with a bicycle.  That's beside the fact that the lids didn't fit on them and you couldn't have kept the coons and the dogs out of the garbage.

So life has returned to a calm, ordered place for us once again.  When we got home Tom put the new can next to the old one out back and we immediately had some bagged trash to put in it.  I'm sure we'll generate a lot more as we get ready to move once again in a couple of months.  You know how moving and trash go hand in hand.

Meanwhile we're all set and can now turn our attention to more important matters. 

Like commodes and sinks and garbage disposers for the house!

Cheers & Blessings to you all today!  Dee

P. S.  I'm praying for each and every one of you as you've requested individually about specific things and as I always do.  Here's what I do that you might consider.  From time to time I go through my email address book name by name and pray for each individual in my book as I know they have need.  That includes all of you with whom I've made an acquaintance and friendship.  So be aware of that and when things turn for the better in your day, remember that prayers are being lifted for you from Picayune, Mississippi.  It may not be the best place in which to buy trash cans, but prayers can sure go up in praise and thanksgiving!  

Cheers!

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