Posts Tagged ‘trash bin’
Mia Wins
Looks like Mia won that round. We awoke to a moderate blanket of snow covering most everything, with temperatures hovering in the upper 30s (F). Mia was a little wet, but not soaking, and showed no sign of being too cold.
I couldn’t help sensing a bit of cockiness in her attitude, but I suspect that is pure projection on my part. She adamantly demonstrated she did not want to be covered, and the weather ended up being much less severe than what I had expected.
Touché.
The other thing I didn’t expect yesterday was for the sky to clear so completely and the sunshine to make the snow disappear from everywhere but the shadows.
Wednesday is the day we roll our trash and recycling bins down to the end of the driveway, so I collected all the trash I could find in the house and barely came up with half a bag. With Cyndie out of town for the previous week, there hasn’t been much activity in the kitchen. I haven’t made any purchases of packaged products. Didn’t need to replace the furnace filter.
I don’t know what we usually produce for garbage in a week, but it’s rarely less than a couple of bags. I took it as an opportunity to seek out some worthy items lying around that deserved to be jettisoned. Might as well take advantage of the available space.
The thought crossed my mind that I should contact the trash hauler to seek a discount for being conscientious customers who strive to minimize what we put into the waste stream. Figuring they would be unlikely to humor me and honor such a request, I went the other direction, digging up odd miscellany to fill the bin and make the driver’s trip worthy.
I found an old, practically ancient bicycle helmet with styrofoam so long out of date it was not safe. I emptied the trash container in the shop and also the one in the barn.
Leaving the bin by the road, I had mixed feelings. The decluttering urge was rekindled and gave me a sense of satisfaction to be getting things tossed that don’t warrant being kept. At the same time, it did feel like a loss to be arbitrarily increasing trash that goes into the waste stream just because there was space in the bin.
It would sure help if the trash hauler charged less for those of us who hardly fill the bin.
This morning, I plan to offer Mia a chance to wear a rain sheet before the next round of predicted precipitation starts to fall later in the day. If she accepts, I’ll take it as a sign she understands the coming weather better than I do.
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Sounds Matter
Of all the night sounds reverberating throughout our woods –coyotes howling, raccoons arguing, rabbits getting caught– I cherish the conversations of owls more than anything. Last night, I took Asher for an extra walk in the dark because he had patiently slept through the entire length of the documentary, “Cover-Up,” about investigative journalist Seymour Hersh.
Asher deserved a last bit of exercise before entering his crate for the night. We probably walked right beneath the owl that began loudly revealing his presence after we got back inside the house. I like to think they are using their night vision to supervise the goings on of all the nocturnals around here.
Asher is not particular about where he decides to rest his head. The height of the bottom shelf of the coffee table worked out just fine the other night.
More often than not, he demonstrates that no pillow is required for slumber.
Asher was incredibly patient with being confined to the barn and the limited space under the overhang yesterday, while I worked longer than normal to tidy the grounds of accumulated hay scraps dropped by the mares. We are anticipating a visit from Maddy and the Farrier, Ralph, sometime this morning.
From Florida, Cyndie texted Maddy to share concerns we have about how Mix is doing. I had sent Cyndie a picture of the fence post Mix was biting as if it were an apple.
It’s possible she’s just bored, but her stiff movement and other behaviors might be signaling Mix is dealing with some pain. We are already suspecting she has some arthritis in her joints, and are giving her a daily pain med to treat that.
I don’t see how they can be bored with the ice on Paddock Lake shrinking right before their eyes.
Lost in my own thoughts yesterday, I startled all four of the horses as I was rolling the empty trash bin back from the end of the driveway. They mostly ignore the familiar sound of the plastic wheels rolling on the asphalt, although Mia still always picks her head up to stare as if she’s unsure whether it’s a threat or not.
My normal behavior would be to roll the bin on the pavement beyond the hay shed and then park it there while I walk to the barn to deal with chores. However, my mind was somewhere else when I reached the gravel on the front side of the hay shed and followed Asher toward the barn.
The quiet rolling wheels suddenly changed to a raucous clamor on the gravel that sent the horses scrambling in an emergency response drill. I was so distracted that it was the reaction of the horses that jarred me back to reality, and not the sudden noise the bin was making.
Horses provide plenty of opportunities to help keep us attuned to the present moment. Always remember, sounds matter.
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Relative Something 