I had "company" this morning.

The man who picks up my trash (in carefully tied trash bags) and takes it to the "sanitary land fill" came by.

Money time!

He collects for six months in advance, and by the time I dig out the checkbook and write the check, there's been a chance for a fair amount of casual conversation.

He's very reliable and by insisting on pre-tied bags of the stuff, he is extremely neat. And he takes the extra minute to put the lid back on the trash container, and get it out of the way of any automotive traffic.

So much better than the big outfit who also picks up. (On bad days it can look like they deliver.)

They weren't collecting outside city limits when we moved back here in 1976, and we were lucky that there were independents serving the people in the unincorporated parts of the parish. The alternative was to take one's bagged trash to the dump--and usually have to wait in a longish line.

The rest of the day was spent doing little junk and, as a reward to myself, I went to Arby's for supper.

This time my car did not gasp and die, like the last time I headed there.

In fact, the car seems to be running quite well. (Knock wood.)

My mental calendar is all messed up from the car's down time. Another factor contributing to my temporal discombobulation.

By the end of next week my internal calendar should be back to normal.