Bless the trash scavengers
On Saturday, I wheeled to the curb a broken down lawnmower that we had stored outside for a year, thinking we were going to fix it. It was rusty, one of the wheels wobbled and was scarred with what appeared to be bite marks from some wild animal. Oh, and it wouldn't start. Trash pickup is Monday, but I knew it wouldn't last that long.
It didn't. Virtually anything not in one of the city's trash or recycling containers gets picked up by someone in a roving band of scavengers. (And I mean that in the kindest way.) Yesterday's rain didn't deter the Sunday sweep through the neighborhood. The lawnmower vanished last night.
I have had broken tables, chairs missing a leg, weed-eaters with the electrical cord yanked out, and even bags of leaves picked up. What I presume to be the resourcefulness of these folks impresses me. And if it spares one thing from filling the landfill, more's the better.
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