A few weeks ago I contacted the trash service in our area to pay my bill and ask about an additional trash unit. Well, the trash unit never showed up and it didn’t dawn on me that maybe the bill hadn’t been recorded. Then this week, the company tried to call me, only they did not have my phone number – it was someone else’s.  So my trash delivery got cut off. Oh, woe is me. I called them and found out my call had been registered but nothing more, so I arranged for another unit to be delivered. She said it would be here within the week – Oh, heavens, let it be soon. Really soon.

I just had to vent this because even though I didn’t get trashed, in this situation it is the pits and I am bummed out. Maybe I will discover that we threw something in the trash that was important . . . and we can still retrieve it. I doubt this is the case, but you never know where you might find a silver, though dirty, lining.

I will be getting scarves in the mail, handmade from Iowa. Woo-Hoo. It is always nice to be looking forward to something arriving at your doorstep . . . well, until it’s a brown paper bag on fire and filled with you know what. I’ve never experienced that but I’ve heard legends about it.

It is 62 degrees here  right now, but it is supposed to get cooler – 61 and then 60. Tomorrow, though, will find us in the 50’s. It is also raining outside, not hard but wet is wet. It is probably a little blessing for me because if it weren’t raining, I would be obliged to go out by the shed and look closely at what I glimpsed yesterday afternoon: my big woodpile fell over.  It fell on ancient bricks so the jumble is not sitting on the bare ground at least, but that is about it.

It was the woodpile made of relatively-new heavy wood, not my woodpile of older, lighter, let’s-get-the-fire-going-real-fast wood.

I saw the woodpile fiasco after I had done close to seven hours of seriously yucky housework. I do not like housework, as everyone here knows, but I did it . . . and the woodpile fell down. Perhaps it is a sign. This morning my muscles ache.

As I sat here with my aching muscles, I looked at the Kindle book page and for a moment read one of the headlines of the suggestion paragraphs and listings as Books You Have Refused to Look At. Then, I started thinking about some of the books that have been recommended based on my viewing history; I have sometimes wondered if they feel I have a taste for trash. I have also wondered if they might be right, but I’m letting that thought go.

One of the Kindle Daily Deals is a book about a sanctuary of outcasts and is based on the author’s time spent in prison for fraud. The front cover made me immediately think of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil and when I read about the fraud part, I wondered about the value of rehabilitation, but that is my skeptical nature, I suppose.

I am not buying the book, not even getting a free sample, because somehow it just offends me.