In a break from all the visa gloom and job doom, today has been great as it is Hard Rubbish Day. Not as you might think, a hard day that was also rubbish, but the day when junk-burdened Sydneysiders leave a load of stuff on the pavement in front of their houses for the council to take away.
I have just spent a happy hour wandering around my area poking through piles of tat with my fellow junk lovers (aka poor folk) while getting sniffily ignored by posh people walking their Labradoodles and Doodleman Pinschers.
There is a great deal of rubbish, and I do literally mean rubbish; cracked pieces of wood, plastic bags filled with leaves (pretty sure that is not ‘hard rubbish’ millionaire person) and rusty metal poles, but there was some great stuff too.
If we were more sure about our living arrangements I would have been quids in; sewing machine, firestick, table football, wine rack, plates, cups, bbq tongs, table cloth, curtains, vintage suitcase, sofas, chairs, tables, a box of tacky jewelry, tvs, videos, DVD players, fans and BBQs. Most of it looked like it needed some serious TLC and who knows if the electricals work, but fuck, it’s free.
It surprised me how many photographs were thrown out; happy smiley people in faded photos and in one box, piles of albums. The strangest thing I found, carefully tucked away in a plastic folder, was a photo montage of someone’s glistening gut shots from all angles. It was accompanied by a medical report (with full name and address details) giving the owner the all clear on his liver. Phew.
Even though we still could be going home, I could stop myself from picking up,
Duffel Coat (Mambo) in perfect condition
3 T-shirts (Billabong and other random makes)
Patricia Cornwell Book (the only book I saw)
CDs (Basement Jaxx and Café Del Mar)
A tray (for breakfast in bed)
Thermal Mug (for winter walks on the beach)
The next one is in 6 months. It makes me want to get sponsored even more.