Saturday, March 19, 2011

A Convenience Center Saturday

Now that we are back home, one of our weekend rituals is a trip to the convenience center.  Now you may be thinking that maybe we go to Home Depot or Lowe's.  You can't imagine that a trip to a convenience store would be a ritual.  Are you wondering?  Are you asking what is a convenience center?

We live Cheatham County, the remaining rural county adjacent to Nashville.  I hated it when we first came here.  I would say CHEATham and laugh.  Our first Tennessee home was on a farm.  Yes, the girl from Brooklyn has lived on a farm.  Although not farmers, we did have dogs and chickens.

Living in the country meant a 6:25 a.m. school bus pick up to get to school.  Our daughters were greeted by Miss Stacy the driver and her daughter.  Across ponds at Little Pond Creek then winding through Sam's Creek Road a now full bus would arrive at Pegram Elementary (pronounced PEAgrum).  Some of the children would disembark. My two girls would go to their schools in Kingston Springs.  We were told we were very fortunate to have our children go to school in this part of the county.  I think they were right and eventually we moved to Kingston Springs ourselves.

The view from my front steps in Kingston Springs
Early we realized that no matter where you live, eventually you have to deal with getting rid of trash.  We asked around, made a few phone calls, and found out that Cheatham County had "convenience centers" for this purpose.  Actually this is just a euphemism for the dump.  There are several convenience centers "conveniently" located throughout the county.

It's actually a great system.  Household trash is received with no charge as long as you have a Cheatham County tag on your car.  As you drive up, kids doing community service for juvenile offenses, or adults, or occasionally a county prisoner in an orange jump suit greets you with a howdy ma'am or sir.  You can pop your trunk or hatch, have your trash removed and be thanked for coming all from the comfort of your front seat.

Today, like most Saturdays we went to the dump.  Our trash was piled in the back of my husband's Mercedes-Benz ML320 SUV.  A pleasant community service worker assisted with the trash.  What was that smell?  Then I saw it.  No it was not the stench of rotting garbage.  It was the smell of hamburgers on the grill.

It was lunch time at the dump.  The weather was gorgeous for "grilling-out."  Probably the grill had been someone's trash that was now being recycled for use by the hardworking prisoners and community service workers.  As we pulled away, one of these workers was carrying a plate, perhaps also reclaimed from the trash.  On top were perfectly cooked grilled burgers.  I was envious.  I was hungry.  Maybe they could challenge Bobby Flay to a Throwdown?


It's grillin' time in the south - even at the county dump.

1 comment:

  1. Well Joyce, you're certainly a long way from Brooklyn! It sounds kind of interesting living though. Your life is anything but dull friend.

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