"The Pile of Vile" Always Remember the Tissues!

It really is amazing the things people throw out in the pile of rejection at "The Dump". Today there must have been a surge of people finding their sleep number because there was an unusual heap of mattresses that looked like they were from 1962. Either that or Keizer Permanente decided to upgrade their hospital beds.

What an odd and curious place the Dump (or “Recycling Refuse Center” for a more tasteful label as they call it) is. Being a sentimentalist and even going as far as a “cling to everything kind of person”, the dump trip comes only about once a year and usually reserved for the stuff that has made its way to the side of the house. However, after about 6 moves in 15 years we have seen the dump on several occasions.

I actually feel bad about the the discarded items at the dump.
It’s not feeling of remorse from “Oregonian recycling loss mentality” which for some of you that don’t know about that it is a feeling that EVERYTHING can be and should be recycled in Oregon. My fleeting feeling of sadness comes from the tossing of items that were once needed and now in a pile of “see ya” Items that once brought us joy or contentment or bring memories flooding back of a time that is now gone. For instance, this trip we tossed out our boys' bunk bed head boards, because in the spirit of recycling we used the bottom frames to create other beds, but didn’t find a home for the head boards, and believe me I tried to think of a good place for a year as they sat on the side of our house in “Junk Purgatory”.  As those headboards got tossed on the pile I kept thinking how many times they were moved, taken apart, back together again, stickers placed by little fingers of long ago, where two brothers bunked together and talked late at night about little boy things that made them best buddies. SEE??? See how hard that is to toss it? "Ward did you bring tissue this time?" 

Tossing of the headboard

Our headboards at home
with all the ugly mattresses.

The other hard part of the dump is that I see things other people tossed in the “pile of vile” and think I have a place for it at home! You know you have issues when you like things at the dump.. Garage sales are like department stores if you are at that level.  There’s apparently tight security going on because the guy who was overly helpful to make sure we knew how to back in our trailer and made us more confused on which way to turn our wheel until finally 10 minutes later we were in our spot, roams around making sure people aren’t taking things out of donated piles especially if it’s kind of cool. Well I found this out the hard way because I spotted a really cute antique desk in the “Metal” section that looked all lonely and sad, so I went over to rescue it... when I hear from the distance “HEY, EXCUSE ME, HEY!!” (it’s the parking guy with the orange vest!) He marches over in security guard form (something I’m sure he learned from the State Pen) and yelled over the beeping trucks backing up and the seagulls squaking “YOU MAY NOT TAKE FROM THIS PILE, ONCE SOMETHING HITS THE FLOOR IT’S THE PROPERTY OF THE RECYCLE REFUSE CENTER!!” as I’m slowly removing my hand and stepping away from the darling desk. The other “recycler” next to me was caught red handed entangled in all the metal reaching for the great Mountain bike! We both walked away, tail between our legs, defeated and scorned, back to our sections of junk that hadn’t "HIT THE FLOOR", which then I had a bright idea that if you just stand next to someone else’s junk truck and catch anything before it hits the floor then it’s fair game!

Leaving with our empty trailer and taking one last look at the desk as we drove by, the feelings of loss all disappear as we move on with life and head back to a refreshing clean side yard area, hoping that the kids won’t notice the missing dilapidated foose ball table we no longer have.  I did ask the lady at the front where they donate their prized possessions that hit the floor, and got the info to start my desk hunt.