This is the true continuing saga of my escape from California. While California is a beautiful, unique place, it is wrought with political turmoil, over-taxation and ridiculous laws. We want to be free.
So we have arranged to move to the lovely Oregon Coast area. And build and run an antique store. To enjoy life in a leisurely fashion.
This is my story.
For best chronological results, read the oldest entries first.
So we have arranged to move to the lovely Oregon Coast area. And build and run an antique store. To enjoy life in a leisurely fashion.
This is my story.
For best chronological results, read the oldest entries first.
The Dump
Posted 02-05-2009 at 08:55 PM by DezertGirl
Most Americans enjoy garbage pick-up. They load the cans and put them on the curb as they go off to work. Not us.
You see, we live in a rural community. There is no garbage pick-up by a refuse service. We have what is called a "transfer station". And we load up our rubbish and take it there. There are bins for metal, large items, brush & branches and dumpsters for household trash. And of course the recyclables bin.
Going to our dump usually ends up being a social event. Sometimes it can take an hour to unload our trailer and chat with all our friends and neighbors.
We connected in this way with several people today.
Neil, the guy who caretakes the wild mustangs saved from slaughter and herded onto 210 fenced acres. The horses were fine, but the owner was having difficulty paying for the feed. I will try to help.
Jose, the tatooed ex-gang member from Long Beach who is a collector of basketcase automobiles. His news was that Code Enforcement was harrassing him because of the cars. Who would have guessed?
Jim showed up and informed us that he had been fired from his job. Days later, he is finally getting angry about it.
The local hairdresser expressed interest in a couple bikes we were tossing. We loaded them into her truck instead.
I cheerfully greeted the grumpy transfer station employee and he actually smiled.
Finally we were able to leave. We'll catch up on the local news next week...
You see, we live in a rural community. There is no garbage pick-up by a refuse service. We have what is called a "transfer station". And we load up our rubbish and take it there. There are bins for metal, large items, brush & branches and dumpsters for household trash. And of course the recyclables bin.
Going to our dump usually ends up being a social event. Sometimes it can take an hour to unload our trailer and chat with all our friends and neighbors.
We connected in this way with several people today.
Neil, the guy who caretakes the wild mustangs saved from slaughter and herded onto 210 fenced acres. The horses were fine, but the owner was having difficulty paying for the feed. I will try to help.
Jose, the tatooed ex-gang member from Long Beach who is a collector of basketcase automobiles. His news was that Code Enforcement was harrassing him because of the cars. Who would have guessed?
Jim showed up and informed us that he had been fired from his job. Days later, he is finally getting angry about it.
The local hairdresser expressed interest in a couple bikes we were tossing. We loaded them into her truck instead.
I cheerfully greeted the grumpy transfer station employee and he actually smiled.
Finally we were able to leave. We'll catch up on the local news next week...
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