How Green is My Garbage

I am, if not the queen, a loyal subject of recycling.

I shred envelopes, call to be removed off catalog lists, flatten cardboard food boxes and even paper labels. I reuse plastic takeout containers as lunch glad ware, and fold the bags for reuse. Old clothes are donated or placed in the scrap rag recycling box. Socks turn into dust mitts. Miscellaneous electronic items are listed as "free" on craigslist or donated to Salvation Army. I go thirsty rather then grab a Poland Springs sport bottle. The list goes on. Slightly obsessive? Perhaps. I hadn't noticed until this writing but sure, you could make a case for it.

I draw the line at craziness though. I mean, Ellie uses plastic diapers and I don't fold tinfoil or anything. (Tinfoil?! My god, why don't I just say flashcube, rabbit ear antenna and pong while I'm at it?)

Anywho...my dearest darling Douglas differs. Vastly.
And yesterday we reached, as a family, a rather disgusting low.

See my town no longer takes cardboard as trash. If you leave a box out, it stays in front of your house with a big orange sticker saying, essentially, "flatten it yourself deadbeat cuz this trashbarge has sailed". Now usually, this wouldn't be an issue. I get a box, I flatten it. But this year, when my mannequin was delivered (don't ask), the box stayed outside for a week or so. Then I threw 3 teddie bears in it (I know, but you can't recycle them...) and some other mish mash intending to sort it all out later, and flatten the box. (To be fair, when it all went down the no cardboard left behind act hadn't been, well, enacted yet. So my intentions were good and not motivated by duress.) well, the box was moved from the upper porch lower, and ultimately it was rained on. It was a big sodden mess.

I felt bad, I really did, but I thought "Well, just this once I'm going to just let it go. It's one box."

I let Doug put in on the curb.

Forgetting the new rules.

Sure enough, my outraged sanitation engineered slapped a big ol sticker on it.

Drag, drag drag - I drag it back behind the porch. Weeks go by. Not ten weeks but not two either. Maybe three, four tops. A recycle day comes and goes. I really really do not want to break down this box. It's all dry by now but god, it just seems like another endless task. I leave it.

Yesterday was a non recycling trash day. In our shared driveway we stand with neighbor Mike.
Doug says "Oh, and I'll put the box out."
"You can't" both my neighbor and I chime.
"Its not a recycle day." I say.
"They won't take it" Mike says, "They don't take boxes anymore.

Doug strides purposely towards it.
"They do if I put it in a plastic bag" Doug replies.