I ordered a clean-up dumpster and moved a lot of wood to make a place for it, but the guys missed my sign for where it was to go and put it someplace else. That someplace else would be the place we park the third car when Der Bingle is here. So I went out and moved more wood to make a spot to park and put plastic trash cans to protect the car in case anyone forgets my warning: Back into my car and I will kill you.

I moved that wood the old-fashioned way – one piece at a time.

Pacing yourself is good when you are moving wood; I find taking the long route from place one to place two provides a moderation to the exercise. It takes longer but bit by bit, log by log it gets done. Do you know you can find a lot of gunk under a woodpile? Especially if it is one that wasn’t completely racked because of weather and life’s complications. Muddy gunk. I must admit, though, that muddy gunk is better than the half-frozen gunk that you find when the temperature does not climb into the 50’s. I was lucky these past two days; we had warm temps and so I dealt with muddy shoes and not  a fallen-on rear end.

I also threw stuff into the dumpster. Oddly enough, when I am standing in muddy gunk, holding a log, I don’t feel this great sentimental attachment to the things that show up in the driveway area. Not a whit of nostalgia; I just chuck it in. The one thing about where they placed the dumpster is that it is not far from the second story windows of this big ole room that is chock-a-block with stuff. I’m betting I can get pretty good at tossing stuff out of the window and hitting the dumpster. Of course, I am handicapped by the fact that the windows crank out and in the open position they are 90 degrees out in the middle of the window. The old windows in the other part of the house crank out to the side and give you wider egress. Of course, with the window in the middle, there is less chance of falling out. Things balance out, I suppose.

We do have some characters here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse, though, and there might be an unwanted balance between dumpster chukking and dumpster diving. Oh, well.