1002. Trash

1trash

My wife wants me to take out the trash. It happens every Wednesday evening. The collection is early Thursday morning.

Don’t forget to put out the trash.
Have you put out the trash yet?
Just wait before you take the trash out; I haven’t finished peeling the potatoes and don’t want the scraps rotting away for a week.

It usually starts on the Tuesday.

Don’t forget to put out the trash.
Have you put out the trash yet?

At least we have a sort of semi-conversation. It’s the only conversation we have all week. It’s been like that for a couple of years.

Don’t forget to put out the trash.
Have you put out the trash yet?
Wait! Wait! Can’t you wait till I finish peeling the potatoes, you stupid man.

It’s Wednesday. I have my wallet in my pocket. I’m going to take the trash out. And I’m going to keep on walking.

35 thoughts on “1002. Trash

  1. Sarah Angleton

    I had the feeling you couldn’t stay away from the blogosphere for too long. A great little story, too! At first I thought the man was taking his wallet because the trash he planned to take out was a better woman than his wife. But perhaps that’s the sequel. Welcome back!

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  2. exiledprospero

    These boots are made for walking …

    Glad you are back, Bruce. And now you give me a chance to write about Nancy Sinatra songs (well, song–if we are to be frank (pun intended)).

    Liked by 1 person

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    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      This is an invitation to join the Gnostic Society – you, me, and Cynthia could talk about Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazelwood, and young people wouldn’t have a clue what we were talking about. Would that make us feel superior or what?

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  3. Cynthia Jobin

    And so he did… he walked all the way down to River Street, and his usual stool at the end of the 50 ft. bar at Maxine’s Tap Room. Maxine herself was a very sympathetic woman with a crusty sense of humor and would put him in a better mood. But if she was busy with other customers, he could always count on singing along with a sad song from the jukebox, or a meaningful silent dialogue with the deer-head up on the wall, adorned with Mardi Gras beads, sunglasses and a tie.

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    1. Bruce Goodman Post author

      Thank you, Susanne. I’ve recently moved into town, and am rather bored as I’m not sure what town people are meant to do to fill in their time. I no longer have the dear goat (pictured), the cow is in the freezer, and the little dog (Delia) died. We’ve put in 3 raised garden beds, and today the turnip seeds germinated (and this is the highlight of the week!) So, yes, I decided a blog continued might help!

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        1. Bruce Goodman Post author

          Lovely to hear from you Yvonne. No – the landlords are taking us to court in November – they want $6000 – there were holes in the ceiling. The holes were first espied 7 hours after we handed back the keys. It is exceedingly stressful! The woman landlord smells money and becomes a megalomaniac. This is going to go on for years. Why O why did it happen to me?!! Yes – very sad about the little dog. Very sad indeed. But we’re getting another – a Springer Spaniel – that we get on November 21. He’s called Bubble.

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          1. Yvonne

            I’m so sorry to hear that those demented people are trying to do this to you. I sincerely hope the voice of reason prevails, Bruce.

            Bubble doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to lead a happy life.

            Liked by 1 person

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      1. Susanne

        I think you’ve found the perfect townie activity. Blogging is very urban and urbane, ideal for the new man in town and a great conversation opener (and closer).

        I’m sorry to hear about Delia. Did she die before the move? Sometimes I think I will miss my dog more than some people when he dies, which I hope won’t be for a few years yet.

        May next week bring you more germination and a good steak.

        Liked by 1 person

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        1. Bruce Goodman Post author

          It’s true about missing dogs! We had moved about a month earlier. Basically, we went for a walk, she came home, couldn’t stand and died the next morning. (To my shame I cried more than when my mother died – but she was 87! Shhh!)

          Liked by 1 person

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      2. exiledprospero

        I’m very sorry about Delia, Bruce. As you know, I have a weakness for small dogs. I am still grieving for three of them.

        A springer spaniel! Good Lord, one of Ariel’s relatives!

        Liked by 1 person

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        1. Bruce Goodman Post author

          Thanks, Prospero. The neighbours were very nice and brought flowers! Which was great. Delia we think was a springer spaniel/border collie cross (we think) although quite small. The new one we’re calling “Bubbles” (we think). Not quite the class of an Ariel!

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Gentle thoughts and expressions of astoundedness are both gratefully accepted.

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