The Dump

My grandparents farm, like most farms of it’s age, has a dump. The dump was used before the days of garbage pickup to rid your home of anything that couldn’t be reused, patched, or burned.

Once when I was young I found myself over exploring the dump. By that time it mostly consisted of rusted out cans and various tiny glass jars and bottles that were mostly broken and full of dirt (though I did pick out a blue glass jar for my grandma as a gift). Amazingly the dump is not that big. I imagine food scraps were given to the pigs or compsted, papers were burned, and clothes were worn until they were no longer decent and then the usable scraps were re-purposed. My great grandparents just didn’t own that much stuff. In those days people didn’t own houses packed from basement to ceiling and when something broke you probably fixed it or did without.

What if I had to pick a spot in my yard for a dump? What if you did? How big would it have to be? Instead of wheeling a bin to the curb each week, imagine the pile growing in your yard each week, because, while you might not have a garbage dump in your backyard, all our waste doesn’t just disappear with the garbage truck.

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The Dump

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