Trashy

There is a street that runs behind our house. It's only about a block long. People like to drive down this street en route to (or from) a much bigger street. There's nothing on this street except for vacant lots and the fences that line the backyards of the houses on our street. People love to throw trash out of their windows as they drive down this street. Who knows, they may even love to throw trash out of their hands while walking down this street. It's always lined with trash!

Every few months I reach my breaking point and spend an hour or so picking up trash. On Sunday, the monkeys decided to help me. I put them in charge of recyclables. They were actually super enthusiastic about this and had a competition to see who could get the most stuff. (I also think they liked playing in the street.) Satchel's favorite part was pouring out mystery liquids. (Ew!) When we were done, he said, "I accidentally poured beer on my shirt." Nice. Hey, at least it was Heineken.


As you can see from the photo (Warren was nice enough to snap one after his afternoon motorcycle ride), they had no trouble filling up their buckets. And I had no trouble filling up a 50 gallon garbage bag. Ninety-nine percent of the trash was food related. Chip bags, fast food remnants, etc. We found some other fun stuff--a diaper, a pie tin, tires, and even a suitcase.

It was a totally gross activity and we all needed a bath when we were done, but now the street looks so much nicer. I hope it lasts just a little while.

Littering is totally lame, by the way.