Take Your Own Trash to the Dump

I grew up in Gloucester County where we had a clothes line in the back yard . . . that is until my Dad brought home a dryer from a laundromat at Fort Eustis where he worked as an electrician . . . and where one of our Saturday rituals was taking the trash to the dump. While the dryer came into our lives sometime in the late 1960s, my parents still use the dump. For free. You can still take your trash to the dump in Gloucester at no charge.

Here in James City County, where I have lived for thirty years, there are about a half dozen garbage collection companies. My husband is a city boy and thinks that garbage collection by a hauler is "the way things are supposed to work." After years of paying around $80 every other month for this service, I put my foot down. We recycle and we compost. We seldom had more than one kitchen garbage bag of trash in our can. We could take our measly amount of trash to the James City County Collection Center, located about 3 miles from our home, for $4. Actually, it's two big black bags for $4. We have discovered that we take a single bag (just $2 -- they punch one $4 ticket on the first trip, and take the ticket on the second) to the Collection Center about once every 2 to 3 weeks. Big savings.

I thought about this today while hanging my clothes outdoors on the line to dry. Another simple living, so 1960s, savings plan. While listing to the birds and enjoying the 70 degree temperatures and breeze, my solitude was interrupted twice by the roar and back-up alarms of BFI or Suburban Disposal or whoever was picking up the garbage from my neighbors' houses.

It's America and that's freedom, but does it make sense? My neighbors are at work earning money to pay the $60 to $80-some that the various garbage haulers charge, earning money to pay for the lawn service. Yes, that's freedom and this is America, but I guess you can hear me shaking my head by now.

By the way, there is a provocative article on freedom in the current issue of Orion: "The God Unbound" by Jay Griffiths.

More on Williamsburg Wordpecker: Don't Send Your Leaves to the Landfill!

Gulf Oil and My Backyard

I'd just finished reading the Saturday Washington Post. I was contemplating the fate of wildlife on the Louisiana Gulf Coast, while observing the lucky wildlife at the feeder station in my back yard, when I was rudely interrupted by a telephone call. It was Rachel from cardholder services with an important message. Grrr.

At my desk now, where I can still glance to the right and see my birds, I've checked my e-mail (my bird watching friend, Shirley, is also online!) and logged into Blogger to tell you, dear reader, my little big-oil-and-the-way-it-goes story.

When I was director of communications at the National Center for State Courts I was pleasantly engaged in writing the organization's annual report, to be issued in the 30th anniversary year of their founding by Chief Justice Warren Burger ... and the Nixon administration. As a running graphic beneath an essay on the organization's accomplishments, I designed a time line with notes about events of historical importance, especially those events that had found their way into the state courts. An event that I listed was the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill.

When finished, I circulated the report draft and very soon thereafter the director of development, a rather high-strung lady, marched into my office clutching her copy of the draft. She was shaking all over with a rage she was working hard to contain. As I observed how her blond hair looked like it would momentarily burst into flames said to me, pausing between each word, "Please. Please. Take. This. Out." She closed her eyes and pointed to the Exxon Valdez note.

She didn't much care for me anyway, and this error in judgment scotched it. At the time, I was experiencing an environmental epiphany and was writing my first book, Waterfront Property. Of course I viewed the oil spill as an historical event of consequence! Unfortunately, I "forgot" for a moment that Exxon was a key contributor to the annual fund that "fueled" the National Center for State Courts.

And so, I caved. The Exxon Valdez incident lost its place in the time line of the most significant events of the late twentieth century. Money wins again.

Yes, follow the money.

I think I'll go fill my lawnmower tank with gas and cut the lawn now.

Once You Start Blogging

Once you start blogging, it's hard to stop. Okay, that's what I think, especially because I've been sitting on so much material for so long and now I've decided I'm just going to go ahead and blog it out there.

I wrote my first book, Waterfront Property, in 2003. Since then I've written two more novels and have started about a half-dozen non-fiction books. The trouble is ... well, I can make lots of excuses but I suppose it all boils down to fear of failure or something like that. I haven't been able to believe in myself and my work enough to want to send out all of those query letters and face all of that rejection again.

Last week, my friend, Conny, got me going on a blogging rant. So in addition to blogging as the Williamsburg Wordpecker, now I've decided to start putting a lot of my backlog of written work online in blog format too. If you happen to surf over to any of my book blogs and you like them, I'd appreciate your supporting my advertisers with your clicks on their links. You see, this is a way to monetize my work for now. It brings in pennies, but that's more than this material was bringing in from its spot on my hard drive and in my file cabinet.

Hey, and maybe a literary agent will find it and like it and contact me! But then, traditional publishing is a hard business to be in these days. Paper and ink books aren't doing so well. After all, too many people are doing their reading online! And as far as I know, the new business model for online books is still in the works.

I suppose some would be worried about someone taking their written work if they just "put it out there" in cyberspace. But since I've actually published five books now I'm not too concerned. I know from experience that writing won't make you rich ... unless it's really, really good or Oprah discovers you. There are better ways to make easy money. Even the not so easy ways to make money can be more lucrative.

So, here we are. Take a look at my revised edition of Waterfront Property or curl up with your digital device and read Driving Around the Chesapeake Bay Watershed. Let me know what you think. And don't forget the advertisers. They're waiting for your clicks (and so am I).

What a Difference a Day Makes!

I didn't check all of the bluebird boxes today, only 4 of them. I was at the park with Virginia Native Plant, Williamsburg Bird Club, and Master Naturalist friends to plant about 100 native plants left over from the Annual Sale (see Saturday posting) in the Bobwhite Habitat Restoration area and in the Teaching Garden at New Quarter.

At Bluebird Box 10, there was one more nestling, so all of the first clutch in that box have hatched. The same was true of Box 8. At Bluebird Box 7, all 5 eggs have hatched since yesterday! Box 7 was exciting to check since the parents dive bombed Shirley and I from a branch high over the box. I suppose you can't really see it, but that's what's happening in the photo with this posting. At Bluebird Box 13, all 6 eggs are still whole. Shirley opened the box and we stood there talking to the mom for at least a couple of minutes before she took a notion to move so we could see. I'll look in on her again on Friday. The eggs in Bluebird Box 11 should hatch that day too.

See photos of the New Quarter Park bluebirds in my Picasa album.

Bluebird Nestlings!

My friend, Conny, and I took a walk at New Quarter Park today and peeked in the bluebird boxes along the trail. Thirteen boxes, 38 eggs, and 12 nestlings! See more photos.