The mucus-production that has gone on overdrive due to a perpetual cold and cough I’ve had for the past few months has rendered me unable to smell anything. Because I’m unable to taste food, mealtimes are hardly enjoyable. In some ways, it has helped though, like in taking out the garbage. I’m now practically immune to its nauseating effects. Changing the baby’s diapers is tolerable as well. Once before, I had to clean up after myself after getting sick from changing the baby.
My olfactory impairment came in handy yesterday too. I’ve had no luck getting rid of a clog in the kitchen sink Monday night. The massive amounts of Drano I poured down the drain didn’t work at all. My sister-in-law (who previously lived with us) said the only way to get rid of that type of clog is to use a plumbing snake on the drainage pipe from the side of the house. She warned that it was a messy, back-breaking and smelly affair. I put it off for the following morning. The stack of dirty dishes would have to wait.
So yesterday morning I unscrewed the end cap of the drainage pipe through a small vent for the house’s crawl space. I plunged the snake up the pipe and tugged a couple of times. Then I went in the house and checked the sink. Surprisingly, that did the trick. Sure, I was a little filthy but the whole thing only took about fifteen minutes. And I didn’t throw up.
Yesterday I received this huge box from Package Design Magazine labeled The Package Designer’s Toolbox. It contained numerous cleverly designed packaging such as CD jackets, box template cut-outs, cosmetic containers, beer cans, water bottles, etc. As a designer, I’d be normally delighted in receiving freebies like these. They serve as wonderful items of inspiration when creativity runs dry. As I sat there examining the items, however, all I wanted to do was to identify them by recyclable material category and get them sorted for the next trash pick-up. Sad to say, these carefully crafted and well-thought out pieces have been reduced to garbage. My domestication transformation must be complete.
Today (or rather yesterday - it’s one hour past midnight) was my son’s first day of school. He started 1st grade. I dropped him off at school and saw excited parents and their kids, some happy, some nervous. I recognized a parent. He was at a birthday party I attended last year. I spoke to him. His daughter is in my son’s class.
It was also garbage day. A few weeks ago we Fremont residents received a new recycling cart to replace the old recycling bins. In it was attached a covered kitchen pail. This pail is to be used for food scraps. The food scraps then need to be emptied into the “organics cart.” The organics cart was originally for yard waste only but with the addition of food scraps and food-soiled paper, high quality compost can be made out of the mix. According to the city newsletter, the following can be thrown into the organics cart: fruit, vegetables, cheese, meat, bones, poultry, seafood, bread, rice, pasta, coffee grounds, filters, and teabags.
This makes taking out the garbage a highly nauseating chore. Emptying the putrid contents of the kitchen pail into the organics cart never fails to test my gag reflex each time. It is not uncommon to see me in dry heaving fits as I walk from the trash cart outside all the way to the kitchen.
This actually reminds me of a form of food scrap collection back in the motherland. A guy would come around the neighborhood collecting food scraps from every home. He’d dump the stuff into two huge pails that hang at both ends of a bamboo pole which he then would balance on his shoulders. The stuff would reek from a block away. The guy would call out, “Kanin baboy!,” which literally means rice for the pig. Yes, the food he collected were fed to the pigs (it’s a third-world thang).
These are my good neighbor Mr. K’s recycling bins. Mr. K, who happens to be African-American, marked these himself for identification.