Since the market started, though, we've been too busy to even do that, but I've still kept up the habit I got into of bagging up my own recyclables to go out late at night after he goes home.
The only problem is I worry I'm doing it wrong, and that whatever I put out on the curb on Friday night is subject to some arcane set of rules that will cause the recycling guys to reject my trash, and so I wake up Saturday mornings and go to the window, anxious that I'll see my the clear plastic bags stuffed with either paper or glass, metal, and plastic, still there in the light of day, mocking me with their stubborn solidity.
One year ago: Testing
Two years ago: Lighten Up
Three years ago: "Lights, Please?"
Four years ago: Here, You Throw This Away
Seven years ago: Angry God is Angry (and possibly made up)
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