I’ve been a little quiet in blog land. The header at the top of the blog has changed, but I have not posted much lately. There is so much going on yet I am not in the mood to blog about those things. Instead, I will blog on something a little lighthearted:
I have an obsession with recycling. Sometimes I decide I am not going to recycle something, like a toilet paper roll for instance. Into the trash it goes, and as if in some Al Gore horror movie, I can hear it talking to me as I progress throughout my day. I get kinda twitchy and feel very guilty, knowing I tossed an item instead of taking it out to my garage into the cardboard recycle pile. 9.9 times out of 10, I go back and get it before the day is out. I, for better or for worse, have trashed a cardboard egg container while cooking in the kitchen only to go back later, scrape off the egg shells and other mess, and take it to my recycle pile.
The hubby and I do not have trash pick up at our home. We are old school and haul it off ourselves. I have to literally get out of my car 4 or 5 times as I drive around to the different recycle bins. For some reason, our entire county does not have a place to recycle glass. I once took a whole load of glass and asked the attendant where the glass went, being that I could not find a bin. “Into the compactor,” he said. This irritated me to no end. So, I now drive to a completely different county when I need to recycle my glass pile.
I am not sure from where this obsession comes. I do know that growing up I recycled aluminum cans to a fault. I would walk up and down the street and pick them up out of the ditch if they were found. Neighbors would bring a small grocery sack full or two of cans and toss them in our driveway for me to recycle. At this point it was not necessarily an environmental issue. I just recycled them for my Girl Scouts troop or for my own personal gain. My eldest brother and I would load them into his pick-up truck and take them up the street to his best friend’s house. His dad would then weigh them and fork over some cold hard cash right into my tiny hand. It was never much, but I guess 10 bucks to a non-wage earner is more than enough.
If we go to the dump and do not take any recyclables, which is rare, Daniel chimes in and says, “Don’t forget the ‘cycles Momma!” He will get a little upset if I do not have anything to recycle. Sometimes he is just a sucker for routine, but I like to think I am rubbing off on him.
I wish were I live was like where my brother lives. He just has a plastic bin with the universal recycle arrows on it that he can toss in anything that is recyclable. He places it out next to his garbage and the recycling is done. Until that time comes, I guess I am just confined to a garage full of 5, sometimes 6 piles of recyclable materials.
Anyone else have the guilty conscience if you do not recycle? Is anyone, after reading this, now going to have a guilty conscience if you do not recycle? :O)