Sea of Glass

Over the last few days, I've read several posts practically mourning the first day of school, but daughter #2 is a junior this year, so I'm beyond lamenting the end of summer. Here is the notable event of our family's first day:

It's Thursday, which means it's garbage day in Small Town. I got up early this morning and dragged a couple of cans chock full of trash to the curb and set them down right by the mail box (for some reason, my garbage men become irritated if I put the trash on the other side of the driveway, and they are known to throw the cans halfway into the yard in protest). So, I put the cans in the correct spot to appease the grisly looking trash collectors.

Part of my Thursday thrill is returning home in the afternoon and being able to ram my car into the now-empty cans and watching them tumble and roll into the bushes. I suppose the thrill is rooted in some deep need to express aggression and hostility. Whatever the reason, that is part of the afternoon. But this morning, with #2 in the car, all dressed in her coolest new getup, I pulled the Pacifica out of the garage and backed straight into the biggest of the two cans, knocking it over and spilling its rubbish into the street, or so I thought. Turns out, the only thing that escaped was an empty wine bottle, a nice royal blue one. I pulled over to right the can so the neighbors wouldn't have to swerve around it, and I rolled right over the bottle, spraying a million pieces of glass into a pretty pattern with a circumference the size of a swimming pool. Sigh.

Here's a picture of a small bit of the mess, right before I bent over in my flowing skirt to sweep it up. #2 thought we should toss it all into the sea so that some lucky beach comber would discover the sea glass someday. It's a lovely idea, but instead I chucked it. Well, at least it was an enjoyable supply of Reisling.