when z was little he was a dumpster diver extraordinare. he would scavage and find bits and pieces of things and then make his own toys. i thought it was pretty creative, mark hated it and forbid him to dumpster dive ever again. way to squash that creativity, mark. then again, i don't come from trash, he does (his words, not mine) so maybe all that roadkill deer he ate as a kid affected his sensibilities about discovering a found object of value.

around here, dumpster diving is a way of life. one lady on disability makes extra money by dumpster diving for cans. she has one of those roscoe scooters with a little cart attached to the back of it. she drives around from dumpster to dumpster, filling up her little cart with aluminum cans and then drives them down the street to the can place. it is her full time job and it must be worth all the time she spends doing it. she even moved to a bigger apartment across the street so she would have room to store all the cans she collects.

nick was the best at it. several times a day he'd wander out to the dumpsters to see what people left. they replaced their sofa and got two big comfy chairs, among other things.

traci found the cutest little shelf that she tucked in the corner of her bathroom. it's a perfect fit for that tiny bathroom.

i'm never lucky enough to find good shit at the dumpster, but then again, i'm not diligent enough to check it regularly.

however, yesterday we were taking asche's poopy bags to the dumpster and we ran across some decent stuff. i found a crate which i will combine with my other crate to make a shelving unit for my art supplies. i found a perfectly good garment bag (before, i used trash bags) and a book. really? we're throwing away perfectly good books now? this is a crime of epic proportions. you might as well burn it. same thing. good grief. donate the damn thing to the library or goodwill, but don't throw it away, even if it's a horrible read. i'll let you know if it is a horrible read because i saved it. the title of the book is Lucille and it must be fate because it's a book about Lucille Ball.

the long and the short of it (there are actually two towns right next to each other in OK that are named long and short and long is a place whitemen dare not go) one man's trash is indeed another man's treasure.