Dumpster Hallelujah

Two beautiful things appeared in my front yard the other day: spring flowers and a dumpster

My good neighbor asked the other day if I would want to split the cost of renting a dumpster. Renting a dumpster has been on my list of things to do for possibly years now, but is something I never quite managed to accomplish. Probably because it required making a phone call to the dumpster people. And that, apparently, was too large a job for me to handle.

My good neighbor accomplished this task in record time without complaint the other day, and the dumpster arrived in my front yard earlier this week.

I have been almost giddy ever since.

Because there was so much stuff that had accumulated in my house and yard. Stuff that was broken or outdated or worn out. Stuff that depressed me to look at it. Stuff that I didn’t want and that nobody else wanted, either. There was the bicycle that was added to our collection when we put a perfectly acceptable bike out on the curb, hoping that someone would adopt it. Nobody did, and then overnight a second less acceptable bike appeared next to it, one that we had to bring back to the house so the trash collectors wouldn’t charge us for it. I also had a broken barbeque, a lawnmower that hadn’t worked for years, a patio table that shattered under the weight of last February’s snow, cracked plastic storage bins, rotting wood, a falling apart sled, rickety chairs that wouldn’t hold your weight, my son’s warped scooter that was perfect for him when he was six, but he’s eighteen now. My neighbor dumped a worn out mattress, a broken bedframe, an old printer.

Gone, gone, gone.

All of it gone.

The waste management company promises that it recycles all materials at its landfill, so there’s less to feel guilty about.

Less guilt (because I do feel a little guilt for some reason, that possibly somebody, somewhere, would benefit from some of what we are trashing. It’s the “reuse” part of the “reduce, reuse, recycle” mantra.) But also? It is freeing to see the space now in my backyard, space where so much that was broken lived for years, stuff that was rusting and rotting and falling apart.

The dumpster will be here until Wednesday. Even with all that we’ve already added? It’s only about half full. But I’m sure that if we keep looking, we’ll find more to let go of.

It’s all about the letting go.

It feels like a fresh start.