I hate throwing things away. Many times I’ve caught myself hovering an item over the trash. An item most wouldn’t hesitate to call “garbage,” but that I can’t seem to let go. “Can it be reused? Recycled? Made into a hat?” (I’m convinced that all garbage can somehow be made into a hat.) I’ve been known to rant for tens of minutes about what is and isn’t allowed in our blue bag. “What do you mean you can’t recycle pickle jars? What – I’m just supposed to throw them out?”
For me, no time of the year is this more painful than at Christmas. The wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, the live Christmas trees, the tinsel, the plastic and cardboard packaging on gifts, the leftovers we meant to eat, but then we just couldn’t stomach mashed potatoes for another day. (Okay, maybe I’m reaching here because, really, who throws out mashed potatoes?) Of course, these things come from a well-meaning place – and only grinches bemoan presents, decorations and feasts, right?