THE DUMP AND OTHER RANDOM THOUGHTS

Happy Halloween! I am up early with random thoughts and roiling emotions, so it's a PERFECT time to squeeze in a blog post for this month.  Yes, my "content creation" has been lax for a good long while.  It's not that I have nothing to say -- just ask Hub who knows the urgent thoughts in my brain are often topics du jour for several hours on a regular basis. It's just that unless you are married to me, and obligated to listen, I have started to wonder "Who cares?"  A crisis of confidence in my ability to entertain and inform I guess. 

But I am also doggedly persistent and have an OCD need to never skip a whole month without a blog post, so here we are at 6:00 a.m. getting this assignment in under the wire.

TRANSFER TO ELSEWHERE: 

I cried at "the dump" recently.  The "dump" is now called a "transfer station" where trash goes on its way to somewhere else, as if on a road trip.  I had never been to the one in our county even though it's only about 15 minutes away, near the local airport.  Going to the dump has been Hub's job.  But I was curious, given my newfound devotion to trying to eliminate waste that contributes to the landfill -- whatever that is; have never seen one of those either.  

OK, not a true statement.  I've never seen a modern transfer facility or landfill.  When I was a kid, my dad would load up the trunk of the car with the detritus of our modest suburban life to dispose of it at the dump, a large open pit on the edge of town, where people just threw their castoff washing machines, refrigerators, bikes, planks of wood, paint cans, dolls, beds, really any manner of "trash", on the pile.  A scruffy ill-kept man (how could he look otherwise?) worked there separating and sorting to the best of his ability, but really, that was a thankless job.  Seems I also recall a lot of birds circling and pecking through the trash.  The whole thing was both fascinating and frightening to me.  Very Halloween, actually.   

Highly responsive people feel things deeply.  So, I've come to accept that my emotions will overwhelm me at surprising times.  My recent trip to the transfer station was such a time.  Trucks, vans, cars pulled into a huge  building, backing up to a wall separating the car lane from the cement "pit" where, not unlike my childhood memories, people began throwing their old stuff over the wall and into the cement catchment.  A front loader moved back and forth, shoving the growing pile of debris to the sides to make room for more.  I saw perfectly good beds and dressers crash to the cement floor; flower pots, kitchen items, bags and bags of clothing and bedding, construction debris, wood, tile, strollers, toys, and a heartbreaking stuffed animal that appeared to be a bull with fuzzy horns.  That's when the tears flowed.  So much waste, so many memories.  

Every single thing in the pile had at one time been a thoughtful and seemingly needed or wanted purchase.  Why did that fluffy "stuffy" end up face down in the mess?  Did the child outgrow it?  Never want it?  Die?  Had the toy been loved or neglected?  Did the family lose their home and flee with only their clothing and things they needed to survive, leaving the nearly new looking guy behind?  I can get dramatic.  

But my tears were real for our disposable culture contributing to the massive quantities of "junk" that we discard and expect Mother Earth to devour.  Out of sight, out of mind for us, but that landfill exists somewhere inside the earth; the incinerator releases toxins into the air; the plastics industry churns out more and more micro-plastic for our air and water and us to eventually consume; and advertisers sell, sell, sell us more stuff to use and disuse on a whim.  And yes, we contributed to the pile that day.  Things that needed to be rid of that were neither reusable nor recyclable.  But my determination to be extremely planful about what I buy and how I will eventually rid myself of it was strengthened.   Who knew a curiosity ride-along to the dump would end in tears?

(Here's an eye-opening story: 

https://environmentamerica.org/washington/articles/a-day-at-the-landfill/)

ALSO ON MY MIND:  

UPDATE:  Update on Hub: he's doing great.  No dreaded "side effects" of his treatment and we are hopeful his tests next month will bring good news.   Thanks to all who checked in and sent good wishes.

THERAPY:  After a summer of cancer-focus, I started at the end of August with a new therapist specializing in trauma-based therapy.  So that's been fun.  (Not related to the cancer, but to other ongoing things that I seemed to have trouble processing. Why? I wondered.)  Peeling the onion to reveal issues and ways of coping that have been there since childhood, learning about attachment bonding, identifying core emotional wounds and how they inform the whole damn rest of your life -- intellectually fascinating and emotionally challenging.  But worth it.  I feel the shift from where I've been to where I am heading.  I am finding myself and repairing.  Why doesn't everyone do therapy?  It's great!  (But it did take me decades to find the right therapist and modality.  I am determined and persistent!  Plus, when the student is ready, the teacher appears.)

ELECTION:  Seems there is an election coming up.  Since I don't live in a swing state, I feel ignored.  That's not to say, uninformed or uninvolved.  I finally made a committment to do more than send money to my county Indivisible chapter and started going to meetings.  Next thing I knew I was on the Admin Team, helping the leadership plan and set agendas and organize actions.  I've been contributing money to candidates and causes, writing postcards and letters, waving signs, going to rallies.  I read, I discuss, I worry, I rest, I return.  There is a lot at stake.  I'm sure there will be more to say on this topic.  

GRANDMA BRAG: My oldest granddaughter made the Freshman volleyball team at her high school.  Then she was chosen captain of the team.  We have been going to the home games and I sit there filled with excitement and pride and disbelief that my "little girl" who used to sit with me for hours coloring and crafting and talking and giggling, now is so grown up, capable, responsible (straight A's so far) and completely devoted to her friends and teen experiences.  I don't see her often anymore.  I'm no longer her best friend.  But sitting there on the bleachers cheering her on is a great joy.  As is seeing her dad at his alma mater dressed in blue and gold school colors.  Time passes, generations turn, circle of life.

ROAD TRIP: Hub and I took a trip over the mountains a couple of weeks ago to see fall colors.  We had the absolute BEST time.  We stayed in little tourist towns that are a bit hokey, but in the off season quiet and rather charming.  The colors were as promised and the air was crisp and clear.  After our stressful summer it was just what we needed. 

And tonight, darkness will come early as it does here in the Pacific Northwest at this time of year.  Kids will ring our bell hoping for candy but receiving granola bars.  (My younger granddaughter was appalled and giggled a reprimand:  "Remind me not to trick or treat at your house!")  Soon Thanksgiving, then Christmas, and then we will turn the page to 2025 and wonder where the time goes.  The Wheel of the Year turns, things change, what was new becomes old, but there are possessions and memories and people in my life that I will never discard.  The landfill will take ME one day, but what I will leave behind is gratitude for it all. 🙏🏽

At least, that's the view from here...©