You'll just have to have a pyre

The mail lady is not our friend. After the snowstorm, for a whole week, she resolutely refused to disembark from her vehicle to deliver our mail. The snow plow dudes had fluffed a smallish mound of snow directly in front of our mailbox which prevented drive-by mail delivery. Maybe we should tip her more.

So the day after Tom went down with an ice pick and a shovel and chiseled away at the mound, we burgeoned with excitement. We hauled up forty festive pounds of holiday catalogs and Christmas cards from hair salons the old owners of this house frequented on or before 2001 when they moved to Florida.

But amidst the immediately recyclable, the 2008 Randolph Guide to Garbage glittered before my wondering eyes. I was more excited about getting it than I'd have been about an
official Red Ryder carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle. Every year I read it cover to cover.

Did you know that even during Spring Clean-Up Big Trash Week, you cannot throw out a boat?

That ship has sailed, my friend. The sanitation engineers will simply not pick it up. If you don't believe me, you can read about it for yourself. First paragraph, top of page two. Right before the note about asbestos.

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