8.31.2009

trash party!

Valet trash is was not free at the Camden, nor was it optional.  Trash was physically picked up from a container provided to you by the trash valet company which was a 40 something woman with a big bag, sturdy legs and a truck.  She picked up 5 days a week.

Today was our first 'trash day' at the new house.  I wouldn't have known except at once an inordinant number of people began heading out of their houses/garages, lugging trash cans towards the curb as if they'd all heard some suburbia trash bell signaling the commencement of the street trash ritual.

People were conversating with one another, investigating the contents of each other's trash and commenting on the capacity.  If Neighbor A has too much trash and not enough room in their alotted bin, Neighbor A can apparently put their trash in Neighbor B's bin if it has more space.  'Oh look Manny, Sue has some room over here!'

On my street each house is allocated two cans from the city - one for trash, one for recycling. The recycling recepticle is larger than the one designated for regular 'trash' and they don't take brokendown lawnchairs. Oh and get this - they only come once a week! These are things that puzzle me here.

8.30.2009

jah man

Sunday morning - first morning at the new house and I need my damn coffee, quick.  I take off in the car in search of my nearest coffee shop.

My usual go-to joint would be Jo's on South Congress for 'a small coffee in a large cup with lots of room, please.', right out of the apartment complex and up the street.  Ah, but there I was driving around Stassney and Manchaca to find my morning fix.

After a 5 mile tour of thrift stores, fast food joints, a meat market and a CVS I surrendered, whipped in to a convenience store that looked one step up from a gas station.

Inside, I was surprised to find Dale's Pale Ale six packs and other specialty beer favorites of mine.  They had their own brew of coffee - yum - hot, ready to go and plenty of local snacks up for grabs.  And the dudes running the place were jamming hardcore to a Rastfarian church service station over the PA.

Me: Is it Rastafarian church Sunday or what?! Ha.
Register dude (w/a straight face): Yes.
Me: Okie dokie.

As with my familiar downtown hood, there was nary a Christian in sight but rest assured Jah was looking down on the dudes at the Live Oak Market on Manchaca this morning.  Great coffee too.