A one-time school project gone terribly, terribly wrong.

16 April 2007


That's last weekend in a nutshell. But don't let that make you think I spent it all swinging in a hammock. Or even swinging at a very nice suburban party, for that matter.

Saturday I borrowed my boss' ancient pickup:
"You'll want to drive carefully in case anything falls off," she said.

I reminded her that as an ex-trucker I have some idea about how to secure loads.

"No, no," she said "Off the truck."

So I loaded up with the decrepit bark mulch, earth, sand, and cat crap that used to be the playspace for the two children who lived in the home that is now Domicile Metro, and took it to the dump.

Sorry, "landfill".

Our landfill's quite progressive. We have a fairly high set of charges for recyclable material. The dump takes in yard waste up to 500 Kg for free, and sells the compost. The first bit of luck was that I had about 499 Kg. Or maybe 505 and the woman running the scale liked my smile.

The second was that my boss' truck has a dump bed. I got a load of envious looks from the other dump denizens as they shovelled and shoved their way through piles of leaves, branches, and dirt. I just picked a good spot and hit a switch. Box up, load "un"-ed.

The third bit of luck was that the rain held off until I'd finished. It took two loads and five hours. I had to shovel the dirt and chips into a garbage can and shift it without a wheelbarrow, as I had no way to dump the barrow into the truck, and shovelling it in, then out, of the barrow just made no sense. Wet bark and dirt would have taken half again as long, and cost money at the dump, to boot.

But eventually it, and all the associated garbage (including two years' worth of Christmas trees--who the hell were these people?) was gone. Nothing left but denuded earth in a large square, waiting for us to fence, seed, and plant.

Oh--and one load of cat $#!7, as of about 7:30 this morning. Neighbours' moggy clearly takes a dim view of my denuding the area of sand and ground cover.

I wonder if cats make good fertilizer?

Sunday was spent largely tinkering with my scooter--summer riding's just a couple of hard thundershowers around the bend, and I'm going to be ready.

And this morning I used the Vancouver Sun Run Training guide--borrowed from the running through rain blog. I started with the "Week 2" program. Run one minute, walk four, repeat eight times. I suspect that I'm deluding myself that I'm not training toward a 10-km run. Today's time was about forty minutes, and today's distance was about 3 miles/5 km.


At 2:02 p.m., Anonymous Anonymous said...


Uneventful? Are you not paying attention to the fabulous exploits of the Vancouver Canucks, led by stand-out goaltender Bobby Luongo? What kind of Canadian are you, eh?


At 10:53 p.m., Anonymous raincoaster said...

Maybe he's got that American cable service that cuts off the end of a game for infomercials.

So, who owes who money on this Mammoth Marathoner thingie anyway?

At 12:28 p.m., Blogger Metro said...

I'm trying to find out. Unfortunately the "MSM" (men who have sex with men?) have other events they wish to concentrate on.

Of course, he might still be out there, jogging away ... Maybe he'll do the Forrest Gump thing.

At 12:29 p.m., Blogger Metro said...

Oh--and I sat and got sozzled because I had four extra beer while the first game wound down. Don't talk to me about fandom ...

At 11:45 p.m., Blogger Richard said...

Domicile Metro eh?

I ran a competion amongst my friends to name my house. Winning entry was my own - Whare Mahoney. (Whare, pronounced fa-ray, is the Maori word for house/dwelling).
Other good ones were Dojo Mahoney, Chateau Ricardo and The Taj Mahoney. Taj was edged out by a whisker. Presently I'm avoiding working the yard...

At 12:42 p.m., Blogger Metro said...

Have to say, I liked Taj Mahoney.

Beats hell out of "Dunroamin'" or "The Laurels", though.


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