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The Garbage Man

We get our garbage and recycling trash picked up weekly.

The garbage men (or to be politically correct, garbage women, but I never do see any females on that truck) come by each week to collect our trash then leave the bins back on the curb.

Afterwards, something magical happens.

Now, this probably doesn’t happen on every street or in every neighbourhood but it happens on my street each week following garbage pick up. An elder gentleman, who we will refer to as Mr. Bin as I don’t actually know his name, goes around to each house and moves the bins onto the front porch or lawn to clear the sidewalk. Mr. Bins is a regular on the street living here since before I was born, I can imagine, and has taken it upon himself to help clean up the neighbourhood. I watch the garbage men take my trash and then place it back on the curb outside of my home. Minutes later, Mr. Bin moves my trash bins onto my lawn to clear the sidewalk and restore order to the street. I see him walk down the street and move my neighbours bins in a similar fashion. Did someone ask him to do this? I expect not. I assume he has assumed this role and neighbours just expect him to clean up our streets. It doesn’t matter if you are standing right in front of your house, Mr. Bin will still move your trash bins and you feel obligated to say thank you and a little embarrassed he beat you to it. Maybe it’s an age thing.  My sweet windowed neighbour always sweeps my porch and my other elderly neighbour offers to water my plants in the summer. Although it might appear as if I live in a seniors community, we do have a few younger families who could benefit by following the examples of Mr. Bin and his friends. All I know is that every Tuesday morning, my garbage and recycling bins sit neatly on my lawn waiting to be returned to their home in the garage.

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