Poverty Is Not an Accident

Poverty Is Not an Accident
Nelson Mandela

Friday, October 17, 2003

Great Haul Yesterday!

I almost didn't go trash picking yesterday. I'm in so much pain from building the greenhouse and doing half a dozen loads of laundry.

See, laundry outdoors isn't like laundry with hookups. I have a garden hose, attached to a "y" pipe. One arm of the y is attached to the COLD washer hose (the hot washer hose is suspended from a coat hanger, straight up in the air, so water can't spill from it).

The other arm of the y is attached to my garden hose.

I shut off the garden hose while the machine fills. Then, I immediately open the garden hose into my plant beds. Otherwise, the water pressure would damage my hoses.

Then, I must run to shut off the garden hose when the machine fills again to rinse, turn it back on when the machine is full, etc.

And, the garden hose must be moved from place to place in the empty lot and in my little yard.

It's a lot of running around.

When a load is done, I hang it to dry. I don't have a drier, and think driers a silly thing in Albuquerque, where humidity rarely reaches 30°.

The machine must be refilled as quickly as possible, so as not to waste water.

It requires paying attention, planning ahead, and moving quickly.

So, I did laundry while I was already out there, working on the greenhouse.

It was exhausting.

I went trash picking anyway, hoping I'd find a newspaper by the time I got to Smith's.

I went on Silver Street first this time; I too often miss Silver, as the trash truck gets there before I do. This is stupid; yuppies live on Silver.

Well, almost the 1st trash barrel I reached was the Mother Load.

Squished under the lid was a double-sized feather bed, with a removable duvet cover. It must weigh fifty pounds or more. A little dirt on the cover, yes, but otherwise, it's in perfect condition. I'll stretch it out on my clothesline for a week or so to air it out. I may spray it with bleachy water. I won't wash it; the feathers will compress. I'll throw the cover in my washer.

A feather bed retails for about $400.oo or so.

I won't use it as a feather bed; I'll use it as a comforter, between light blankets. The bottom blanket will protect me from quills; the top blanket will protect IT from animals. I will sleep VERY warm this winter!

In the same barrel, I found the hard drive for a Compaq computer, with "Intel Inside." I haven't checked it out yet. If it doesn't work, it can still be cannibalized for parts or sold to a computer reconditioner.

I also found some Lemoge china plates, saucers and cups. And I found antique, papier mache Christmas ornaments.

I took all that loot home; it weighed a TON!

Then, I headed out again.

I didn't find much else. But what I found was very useful. In one trash barrel, I found a heavy canvas triangle, sewn in strips to look like a rainbow. It had heavy grommets. I immediately thought of the gap between tarps in my yard, and how cool it would look to have a rainbow visible from the alley.

I also found a lap tray: masonite top for my keyboard, bottom a "bean bag," to conform to the contours of the lap. It, too, is rainbow striped. Neato.

And I found 3 bamboo "tiki" torches, complete with the metal bottles for kerosene. No wicks, but I have a bunch of wicks I found a long time ago, stored in my candle basket.

I unfurelled the triangle when I got home. It's a Hoby sail, apparantly for one of those sail surfboards. It has a clear vinyl "windshield" so the driver can see through the sail to the other side. That's gotta be worth a couple of hundred dollars.

In all, I dragged home close to two thousand dollars worth of discarded goods yesterday.

And almost COMPLETELY emptied one, whole trash barrel.

Post Script: I'm going back to the house where I found the feather bed, computer, china & antique ornaments. I saw a moving van outside it as I returned. They'll leave a lot of other stuff, too, I'll bet, as the house is large and the truck relatively small.

They have a greenhouse, full of pots.

I think this might be a big deal.

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