I wake up to a beautiful spring Sunday morning.  What a blessed day!  Caleb left early, early for work, but the day shall be wonderful despite his being gone.  I leisurely get ready for church, but there is a little nagging dread in the back of my mind.  Blech, I have to take the trashcan to the curb today.  Don’t forget; don’t forget; don’t forget.  (Yes, things like taking trashcans to the curb do nag at me.)

When Caleb is gone I actually often forget to roll that blue thing out to be picked up.  More than one early Monday morning has found me dashing down the stairs and flying out the front door to try to catch the garbage truck before it leaves.  Try doing that in your pajamas and slippers first thing on a Monday.  My neighbors probably settle back with popcorn and a coke, “Look, Maude, there she goes again!”  Alas, I never catch the truck on time, and that makes us have to stuff yet another week’s worth of trash into a full bin.

This day was especially important and dread-inspiring for I had dumped several buckets of lava rock from yesterday’s yard cleanup into the old blue can.  Not only was it too full for more trash, it was also heavy. (Yes, I’m sorry Mr. Garbage Men, but I’m trying to get our money’s worth on this trash service thing.)

I fix some breakfast and sit at the kitchen table, enjoying my time but thinking, “Don’t forget today.  Trash.”  I look up and what to my wondering eyes should appear?!  Yes, dear world, this is why I married him.

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