016. Wednesday Is Rubbish Day

There are different ways to measure a passage of time.  A watch to watch the minutes and hours, the first swim of summer marks the years.

The one that catches in my throat these days is rubbish day.

Every Wednesday I take out the bin.  And every Wednesday, I’m having the same thought: where did that week go?

Eleven years in this one house, the longest I’ve ever lived in one place.  Eleven years of putting the rubbish out on Wednesday.  Where did all that go?

At first glance the street looks the same as it did when we moved in.  But look a bit closer and there are signs of change.  The pohutukawa have been torn by storms and now are coming back.  The bloke across the road is on to his third car restoration.  Most of all, all the kids are growing to nearly grown.  Especially my LittleDavys aren’t so little anymore except in my heart.

Ah, that’s where those weeks and years have gone.  Living.

About Ned Davy

By hokey, the big fella’s tipped into his 50s. A rangy loose forward in his prime, good with the ball in hand, but rarely up with the play any more.
This entry was posted in Ned and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Go on. Have your say.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s