"Convenience"

When we moved to Nashville it took me awhile to figure out that your trash and recycling were handled by individual companies that you paid directly to come to your home to get those items. You paid for the convenience of them coming to you.

Paradoxically, the places where you took your stuff you needed to dump were called “Convenience Centers.” We only went to them when had electronics to recycle or random junk we didn’t want to hang on to until our next trash day. But brother Z took his items to the convenience center every weekend.

Imagine my delight when I learned that in the new house trash and recycling collections are paid for with our taxes. The bins were waiting for us in the garage and the neighbors helped us learn the schedule and the process. Easy.

In Nashville for large items, I could call the sheriff’s department and they would come pick it up.

One fond memory was looking out our bedroom window to see if the couch was gone to find the big sheriff’s truck out there loading it up, the driver looking right at me with a big grin on his face as he chewed and raised a cookie to me in salute. I would try to leave a thank you or treat for the folks when I called for a pick up and on this day it was homemade cookies. 😁

If we happened to have a lot of extra garbage one week, I would leave a note and tip out for Adam, our garbage collector. He was a great person and went above and beyond to treat us well. He’d haul the extra off, no problem.

If Weston was doing a job for us that had lots of trash, he would call for a dumpster to be delivered or he would haul the trash away.

These were processes I understood.

That was my expectation when the old carpet from the basement in the new house piled up outside the back door. After it sat there for days, I sent a text to our flooring person to ask if he was going to haul it away.

“You just put it out with the trash and they’ll take it.”

🤯🤯 What?!?!

No way could that be real.

Still, I thought we’d give it a try so this morning we pulled part of the pile out by the bin, just to see what would happen.

As I expected, the garbage truck came through with its specialized bin grabber arm, dumped the trash bin in and left the carpet.

Buds and I shrugged and looked at each other. Who knows.

Less than an hour later another truck with a regular grabber arm came through, tonged onto that pile of carpet, tossed it into the back, and off it went.

Mind blown, gratitude intact. Each place has its own way.

This new way, now that’s convenience!