The Joy of Taking It All to the Dump

Ah the joy, the sweet utter joy, of ridding your lawn of the detrius that builds up over the long New England winter. I have been looking at the sticks, pine needles, and leaves that pile up and make my house look like a suburban ghetto. I have seen them as I get in the truck and drive away to Cindy's, only to watch her rake and clean her own lawn while I sit idly by on the laptop, thinking about my own leaves and twigs back home. I promise, I'll help you Cindy, now that I've seen the light and cleared away my own debris.

But today--a good way to start the day--I put on my dirty blue jeans and headed out to the gloom at 8 am to tackle the problem. I loaded up the GoNOMAD Cafe truck with a bulging stack of miscelleanous natural debris and hauled it all off to the dump. I was so happy to see that stuff go that I almost broke into song on that winding road to the dump.

A glorious thing it is, to be heading into the first week of spring with no piles no clumps, no sticks that make me feel like a guilty homeowner. I can head off to LA on Thursday and then on to Melbourne, Australia without a wisp of guilt, for the job has been done.

Today I meet Jim Foudy of the Daily Hampshire Gazette at the cafe. I've been pitching him on a new blog, or a new place to run my travel segments that I write during my journeys. I hope that he likes the idea, and that he also takes me up on my offer to speak at his UMass journalism class.