The Scenic Sandwich Transfer Station
One of the charming chores of country life is taking our trash (and treasure) to the dump. No, no! We call it the “transfer station.” So what’s “charming” about that?
First of all, I’m not kidding when I say that I enjoy going to the transfer station. To start, there’s the sense of satisfaction and security that comes from having empty trashcans, sort of like having a full tank of gas or milk in the refrigerator (or ruby red vodka in the freezer, fresh, bubbly tonic, and a lime on the counter that isn’t rock hard).
Then, there’s the pleasure of driving 113 towards Holderness with the windows down, country music on the radio, and no need to hurry. (Have you heard the Kacey Musgraves song “My House” about living out of a travel trailer? Perfect for a trip to the transfer station. Thanks, Kelly D!)
Gracie and Beau love Marilyn (and her treats!)
And finally, there are the dogs. Gracie and Beau enter a state of absolute apoplexy when invited into the truck filled with trash. They know where they’re going, and they become wiggly, waggily balls of ecstasy. To them, the transfer station is synonymous with treats.
As soon as I turn onto the transfer station road, both dogs quiver with excitement and Gracie begins to whine. I have to be careful to set the back windows so that the dogs can’t clamor out in the scrum that ensues once I park and Marilyn or Peter approach with dog biscuits. The dogs are masters of obfuscation, able to convince anyone that they have been neglected and are in dire need of food, even if they’ve just been given treats. (Drooling appears to be central to this technique.) They often score from both Marilyn and Peter.
So why isn’t it called the dump anymore? For one thing, recycling has become a big part of the waste management process. We often have more in our recycling bin than we do in the trash can, and now that Sandwich boasts “single stream” recycling, it’s easy-peasy to simply dump (dare I say) that entire load down the recycling chute.
Transfer Central ~ trash & recycling go in here
Before single stream, sorting recyclables was a huge challenge. Conundrums abounded, such as whether a bottle was clear or green. (Is that a tinge of green in the glass? That makes it green, right?) And plastics were separated into at least four categories. Searching for a recycling code on the bottom of a mayonnaise jar could require a microscope. (I swear I washed it out thoroughly!)
If you actually needed a microscope, there’s an outside chance that you might find one at the Swap Shop. This area is the reason that many flock to the transfer station. (Just admit it!) The best pickings are towards the end of the month, as the shop is cleared out on the last day of every month. Then again, you never know when something really good will show up.
Swap Shop Treasure
You could score a little teapot. (No, my mother does not need another teapot!) Our how about a Christmas creation? A child’s bike (just needs a seat cover) or skis?
How about a book? Everything’s free! The problem is that some people come home from the transfer station with more than they unloaded. (You know who you are!)
What’s the best thing you found at the Swap Shop? Please leave a comment 🙂
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