The other night I was blogging / surfing / otherwise
wasting spending quality time on my laptop in the living room when I heard a familiar "Crunch" outside the front window.
The kind of "Crunch" I have heard too many times before. Definitely a car running into something.
I peered into the darkness, but couldn't see anything amiss on the front street.
Must have been on the highway. I presumed.
And then I didn't give it another thought.
Until I went out an hour later to put out our trash and recycling, for tomorrow was Garbage Day.
That's when I realized just WHAT the "Crunch" was.
Yup, some idiot going too fast lost control on the icy street, careened over our driveway (luckily hubby had just moved his truck up near the house) and through a snowbank to push our neighbor's trash can and recycling bin across their driveway and out into the middle of the street.
Of course hurling cans, bottles, cardboard AND garbage everywhere.
Of course it was windy, causing newspapers to fly into yards halfway down the block.
Of course it had to be - 48 C that night.
Of course they didn't stop to clean up their mess.
And of course I chased down all the debris in the arctic wind, dodging cars who graciously ran over what I hadn't yet collected propelling it further down the street.
Thanks. Thanks a lot.
I mean, there was no way I would have left it... our neighbors are in their 80's.
Yes, it was disgusting picking up all that trash in the street, but it didn't make me half as sick as the garbage behind the wheel did.
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