A wind storm is like clusters of belligerent drunks leaving a pub. There's a big hullabaloo, then things go quiet...... and then all hell breaks loose again.
Tonight has provided one of our better recent blows. I went out after supper to buy groceries and was impressed by the minimum windspeed, awed by the beefy gusts. On the way back I noticed that my neighbour, a creature of habit, already had his trash out at the curb, his two plastic cans (only one of which retains a lid) and his blue recycling bin. Uh oh, I thought.
About an hour ago, after the kids were in bed, I wondered about putting out our trash. I looked out the front window at the neighbour's offering--which was gone. The recycling bin was on its side with its contents fleeing down the street; the cans were missing.
Hmmm, I thought. I put on my coat and went out like Good King Wenceslas, but a wind rather than snow version.
There were small, white, bundled-up kitchen garbage bags rolling ahead of me, but I was after larger prey. The first one I saw in the low-lying front yard of a house across the road, half a block down. I made a mental note and kept going. I found the second wedged between a concrete planter and a tree at the traffic-calming barrier that actually causes people to drive more maniacally, near the school.
I gathered up both empty garbage cans and dragged them against a stiff and persistent headwind back past my house to my neighbour's home. The single extant lid had landed like a spacecraft on my front lawn, and I retrieved it too. I wedged these three things in between his car and the fence that separates our properties, and was about to ring his bell to tell him I had chased his voided garbage cans to hell and back, but then recalled that he has a young child who was probably asleep.
So I'll let him figure it out.
Anyway, the baffle in the vent from our downstairs bathroom has stopped clanging, so I guess the wind has died down enough that I can safely put out our trash for tomorrow's pick-up, which could be at 8 AM, or 6 PM, or anything in between. We have the continent's most unpredictable refuse collectors. A moot point for my neighbour this week. His trash is already long gone, halfway across Manitoba.