- Jul 17, 2009
- 10,878
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Perhaps this has been said another day, another way, but my name is Laree, and I am a trash picker.
Today I realized I have a problem. It is one thing to ask the grocer for discarded veggies to feed the chooks, to take home the un-eaten Friday bagels from work, or to garage sale and see brooder where once stood kitchen island hood. It is another when you realize going green has quietly slipped towards gone crazy.
But let me back up.
Yesterday I was on the phone with a chicken friend, bragging about my newly received hatching eggs, when my husband beeped in.
Come out and get in the truck! he demanded.
What is the matter? Where are we going? I asked.
It is a surprise!
So I got in the truck to find both kids strapped in, chanting, SURPRISE FOR MOMMY! SURPRISE FOR MOMMY! DADDY GO VROOOM!
And he did. The DH tore down the street, fishtailed corners, and burst into traffic. Three-quarters of a mile later, he pulled into the local grocery store and headed straight for the dumpster. The clouds parted, the sun shone down, and the pigeons sung an angelic tune. Next to the trash bin it stood: a Roman Meal bakery display. Discarded and dirty, but still proud.
So, into the truck it went. I hope you too, see its appeal.
However, it wasnt until this morning I realized I had a problem. We went to Home Depot but due to some flooding in the parking lot, went in the back way. From the back of the truck, the 4-year-old asked delightedly, Yay! Are we going to get Mommy a surprise?!
My name is Laree, and I have raised a family of trash pickers.
Today I realized I have a problem. It is one thing to ask the grocer for discarded veggies to feed the chooks, to take home the un-eaten Friday bagels from work, or to garage sale and see brooder where once stood kitchen island hood. It is another when you realize going green has quietly slipped towards gone crazy.
But let me back up.
Yesterday I was on the phone with a chicken friend, bragging about my newly received hatching eggs, when my husband beeped in.
Come out and get in the truck! he demanded.
What is the matter? Where are we going? I asked.
It is a surprise!
So I got in the truck to find both kids strapped in, chanting, SURPRISE FOR MOMMY! SURPRISE FOR MOMMY! DADDY GO VROOOM!
And he did. The DH tore down the street, fishtailed corners, and burst into traffic. Three-quarters of a mile later, he pulled into the local grocery store and headed straight for the dumpster. The clouds parted, the sun shone down, and the pigeons sung an angelic tune. Next to the trash bin it stood: a Roman Meal bakery display. Discarded and dirty, but still proud.
So, into the truck it went. I hope you too, see its appeal.
However, it wasnt until this morning I realized I had a problem. We went to Home Depot but due to some flooding in the parking lot, went in the back way. From the back of the truck, the 4-year-old asked delightedly, Yay! Are we going to get Mommy a surprise?!
My name is Laree, and I have raised a family of trash pickers.