Recycling the old fashioned way

Our apartment complex doesn't recycle. Isn't that ridiculous? The neighborhood to the right does. The homes to the left do. But the apartments in the middle? Nope! Daniel makes bi-monthly trips to the recycling center on his day off. Last week we went together and it brought back so many memories of our trips in Reno.

As a girl of seven or eight growing up in the littlest biggest city in the world (that would be Reno...), I would be on the lookout for any cans that littered the sidewalk or playground. Once we got enough cans together, my family and I would take them to the recycling center near the center of the city. During the drive I would always hope that I would be chosen to carry the large aluminum -filled sack into the lot... well.... at least on the trips where the sack wasn't torn or dripping! We would walk up to the man standing guard and, slowly, as not to miss one, count each can as we dropped them onto the large conveyor belt. It seemed to magically wisp them to recycling heaven. I think we earned about 2-4 cents/can. I didn't really understand why we were getting paid for something we should just do but I also didn't complain as I could get my dolls a new dress with those few dollars. However, we weren't doing it for the money. We were doing it because it's just right. It's just right to use a product again if you can. Why not?

Last week Daniel and I went to the recycling center together. It was different than Reno, no conveyor belt or financial reward for our beneficial offerings but my feelings were similar... that we were doing something good for Mother Earth, our nurturer. More importantly we were doing what's right. I was impressed at how many dumpsters there were, each with different signs describing what could or could not be deposited.

It's rather ironic... having to have to drive and burn oil to be able to get our reuse-ables recycled but it's worth it. It just is.