Tomorrow brings back to school, back to work, back to the busy pace of the week. I can’t say this particular Sunday was spent in idle leisure. I awoke at 7:45 am, made my son breakfast and drove him to dance, brought my wife coffee and breakfast in bed, went grocery shopping, picked my son up from dance, did three loads of laundry, raked leaves, cooked dinner and put out the trash. After I finish this post I will return to the kitchen to clean up and stow leftovers. The workload inflicted on me by the trash is worthy of further detail. We live down the end of a private lane, 130 yards long, and I know, because I’ve paced it off. We have three containers: trash, recycling and yard waste. Since the Creator endowed me with inalienable rights but only two arms, I require two rounds trips to put everything out at the end of the lane for morning pickup. Do the math: 130 times four, or 520 yards, not to mention the weight of once-a-week bins the size of refrigerator.
Almost time for my Trader Joe’s popsicle and then I’m off to dreamland. I think I’ve earned it.