I went back to my neighborhood today. The flood-damaged crap which Michael and I had hauled out from my house to the curb was still there, a huge pile. In fact, it was even bigger than we left it, as a number of homes in the neighborhood are apparently being gutted. Piles of refuse line the street.
I spent most of the day cleaning out the craft room. Nasty, smelly, headache-inducing, heart-breaking, back-breaking work.
About mid-day a crew came by with a Bobcat and shoved the piles of refuse into one giant pile and then loaded it into a dump truck.
Even before they were gone, I began rebuilding the pile, dumping ruined books and craft supplies and furniture onto the curb. I can’t believe I got the futon out there all by myself. It was heavy.
I discovered a bag of potatoes sitting on the kitchen floor. Somehow I missed it on the last trip. They had partly liquified. Cleaning that up was really gross.
While working, I listened to the Big 870 (AM radio) where the United Radio Broadcasters of New Orleans continue their nonstop coverage of the post-Katrina recovery. Topics of the day included reaction to Mayor Nagin’s proposal for a casino district, and the recent police brutality captured on video in the French Quarter.
I’m pretty sore now. I’ll probably have to take it a lot easier tomorrow.