We got a dumpster for this house stuff and I have to say, it was ill-conceived.
I mean, going to the dump is no fun, right? And having the dumpster does make you feel all powerful, for nothing dares offend when there is a dumpster. If I don't like you, you're gone.
But Thursday night came around and we did a lot of little stuff and I ended up sleeping in a bunch on Friday morning. So at 7:15, I resolved that I could continue to stay in bed until 8:30 a.m., because hey, no one was going to deliver a dumpster before 9:00 a.m.. Plus, all I had to do was to move my car.
Well, I had only to hear to "backing up truck" beeps ring out from the street and I knew I was in trouble. Jeans on, then a shirt, then flying barefoot out the front door to chase the Rabanco guy down. Not pretty. He was happy to find me, in the end, because then he didn't have to take it back. I went ahead and signed his form and he said, "where do you want it?" I showed him the empty parking spots in front of the house (after I had just moved the car) and he said, "OK, what's the permit number?" Doh!
Still, I had the dumpster at least.
I guess Tim Eimann got his way with the general fund, so it's now $260 to have a dumpster street use permit. Nice. Now I could have bought a shitty truck for a grand and then sold it for 800 and come out ahead even with dump fees. No matter, though, since it's all so wonderful when it's in the dumpster.
What did we find in our shed of horror? In Don's "found materials" locker from hell?
A table that claps up with spikes on it.
A 16' 4" pipe, rusted out, with an elbow.
A wet, then dried, the hardened concrete bag.
A 50 lb. cinder block.
Lots of Z brick.
Lots of tile so ugly you thought you were in a horror film.
Dock rigging and rotted out dock rope.
2 boat anchors.
An entire, rusted out thresher.
Still, it's all cool when it's filled.
Mike and I got to do a little demo on the shed, with me ripping out the door/table monstrosity and Mike single-handedly tearing the cabinet off of the wall.
All that was needed was another 40 minutes of sweeping the ceiling (yes!) and then getting the crap out of the floor. Plus, Mike went through all of the hoses, too, and put us in good shape.
We did a follow-on trip to Fred Meyer by way of a couple of Slurpees. I bought some paint for highlighting all of the scary, but useful nails to hang things on. Don't want to put your eye out. We also bought a hose bib and some quick connectors for keeping the hoses easy to use. Plus, it's always fun to organize. Oh, and water, because the summer is fully here.
