The other day, as I was starting to come out of my summer flu cloud, I thought I’d take a mosey to stretch my legs. My intention was to walk slowly and cover about 3 miles. Sadly, the walk just didn’t take.


I managed to move at a snail’s pace, which was difficult enough, as I tend to walk quickly. But hey! I was meandering just fine! Only I wasn’t just fine. I could barely handle it. I got about 3/4 of a mile from home and knew I had to turn back. It was the right move, as it turned out. And I gave myself a break. But that’s not what I want to tell you about.


Before I turned in the direction of home, I came across a bunch of trash on the curb. (That happens near the end of a month, as folks move to start new, beginning-of-the-month leases.) I’m not gonna lie to you. My heart flutters when I see a big pile of someone’s discards. You never know what wondrous thing might be in there! If you’re thinking I’m a wee bit on the crazy side for this garbage-fueled propensity of mine, remember – you can take the girl out of the trash, but you can’t take the trash out of the girl.


Anyhoo – as I studied that big pile of potential, the sparkly stuff caught my eye and I got closer to check it out…



Someone made that, y’all! Someone made themselves a table top with busted-up CDs. I fairly loved it. But I’m a sucker for sparkly stuff, and I was still under the weather, so maybe I was being a bit crazy. I don’t know.


I do know that had I been in tip-top shape, I may have hauled that table top home. For what purpose, I’m not sure. But that didn’t happen. I’m guessing that if Mister is reading this, he’s letting loose with a sigh of relief. He didn’t just meet me and it wouldn’t be the first time I brought home trash.


Next time…

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