chasing the garbage truck
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Toronto, 2018.08.28
Both of my grandfathers were known to chase down the garbage truck and get something precious back that their wives had thrown away. Today I found myself tearing open a garbage bag to retrieve something my wife had tossed. Thankfully, the bag was clear and the thing I wanted was easy to find, and the garbage had been sorted, so there were no foodstuffs or other slop in the back.
And what did I want retrieved? It was a small plastic divider that fits into my tackle box to divide its rows into discrete boxes. I'd been re-purposing for uses such as scraping things.
I suppose I've carried on a proud tradition. Well not
proud, per se.