On Christmas Day shortly before going to a delightful dinner at the Jaramillo residence in the Jordan Neighborhood, my son Alex and I spotted an abandoned, trashed up crib right in the middle of an intersection near my house.
And, actually, the crib had been there for several hours but I had made the mistake of thinking, "Well, somebody will come along and get it--after all, they dropped it there."
But it was looking like the crib was just going to remain in the street forever, so finally Alex and I did the good citizen thing and fetched it out. The mattress was trashed--otherwise I would have given it to the Salvation Army--so I set the mattress out in the alley. But I ended up giving the metal frame to somebody who scraps metal. The wooden components, well, they're wood. Enough said.
After we took care of the crib, I looked down the street and...
Oh, great. There was still a shopping cart from Cub Foods parked in front of the house I call the "shotgun shack," right out on the sidewalk.
Sigh.
Our work is never done.
(Do not click "Read More.")
And, actually, the crib had been there for several hours but I had made the mistake of thinking, "Well, somebody will come along and get it--after all, they dropped it there."
But it was looking like the crib was just going to remain in the street forever, so finally Alex and I did the good citizen thing and fetched it out. The mattress was trashed--otherwise I would have given it to the Salvation Army--so I set the mattress out in the alley. But I ended up giving the metal frame to somebody who scraps metal. The wooden components, well, they're wood. Enough said.
After we took care of the crib, I looked down the street and...
Oh, great. There was still a shopping cart from Cub Foods parked in front of the house I call the "shotgun shack," right out on the sidewalk.
Sigh.
Our work is never done.
(Do not click "Read More.")
No comments:
Post a Comment