The Can Man

His name is Frank.
He walked into my life ten, maybe fifteen years ago
& I've seen him just about every week since that very first Tuesday.
But until yesterday, I never realized just how much I treasure him.

I call him the Can Man.
He is the collector of my used pop and beer containers.
Frank takes them to the Recycle Center where they pay by the pound.
My house is just one of the stops along his route.
Seems there are quite a few of us 'regulars' that will set our cans aside for Frank.
A separate bag, just for him.

Frank first noticed my recycle bin back in the day of much pop and beer consumption.
The kids still lived at home with their many friends always over
& the adults sure loved those cold ones.
We were forever filling and refilling our 'beer fridge' with whatever was on sale that week.
The empties ended up in our very overloaded recycle bin
& that's when Frank appeared.
Husband took the garbage out one Monday evening and Frank asked if we would mind.
We didn't
& we've been saving those cans ever since.

One day, I happened to be outside when Frank came by to collect
& we talked.
We are still talking.
That Frank is a chatty one ! but, I suppose he can say the same about me.
He tells me about his family.
I tell him about mine
& he loves the Chicago Bears.
Needless to say, we talk Bears.
A lot.
Frank is not at all patient with our favorite NFL team.
I anticipate and love his seasonal rants.

I worry about Frank though.
He has a good thirty years on me and probably should retire the cans.
But he insists as long as he is able, he will continue.
I can tell Frank has aches and pains but, he never complains.
He just smiles and talks and collects those cans.

About this time every year Frank heads down to the land of sunshine and fluffy clouds.
He loves those winters of warmth
& every year before he leaves, he brings by a token of thanks.
Thanks for saving the cans.

Yesterday was that day.
Our Thank You,  BIG HUG, See You in the Spring Day.
As he got into his truck and was driving away Frank reminded me that as we keep getting older, those cans get fewer
& he's right.
What used to be six, seven, even eight bags saved through Winter has now become one.
'No worries' he said.
He'll be back in the Spring to check, just in case we have more.

I reminded Frank that my Spring is not officially Spring until I see his sweet face
& I will keep saving cans as long as he keeps coming back.
'Deal' he promised.

I so hope I'm saving those empty cans forever.

:)

I Am My Feelings

Do You Mind ...?

I've often consider myself a fairly friendly airline traveler.
I figure, if a chatty stranger wants to plop down in the seat next to me and tell me their life story, I'll happily listen because I love Niceys.
But lately, it seems the more I travel the more introverted I am becoming
& I'd rather just stare at the clouds and get lost in my music.

As Husband and I made our way home last week, that's exactly what I was thinking.
shhhhh.
shhhhhhhhhhhh.
No talking please.

But before I grabbed the earphones, I eavesdropped
& I was very pleasantly surprised.
At least three of the continuing conversations I could decipher started with a "Do you mind if I sit here?"
Complete strangers.
Meeting, talking, acting neighborly.

'How wonderful !' I thought, as I put my music in my ears.
Now, HUSH.

ahhhhhhh.

Husband and I had a connecting flight with about an hour to dillydally in between.
After maneuvering our way to the bathrooms and grabbing a cup of coffee, we settled in to wait.
A man and woman who had been on our previous plane were hunkered down patiently pausing too.
I smiled at them as they nodded their acknowledgement
& then ...
an awesome conversation between complete strangers began.

"Do you like pizza?" he asked
& of course, we responded with a resounding 'Yes!'

YuM.

"The pizza here is really good ..."
& ....
we talked
and talked
and talked some more.

Turns out, he once lived in the very town Husband and I call home.
He raised his family about a half mile away from my childhood house.
His children went to the same high school, graduated around the same years, played the same sports.
He knew just about every name we threw his way
& had visited every store and restaurant we reminisced.
He and the Mrs. haven't lived in our area for years and would never, ever move back
but they love their every once in awhile visit with family and friends in our mutual hometown.

What a wonderful walk down Memory Lane.

As we boarded the connecting plane, I think we all wished we could continue our conversation but, our seats weren't close so our paths were separated.
An hour or so later though, as Husband and I were lingering in baggage claim, a new but familiar voice wondered if we wanted to tip a few beers at the local Legion Hall
& as we laughed and parted ways, I thought ... 'it all started with a curious little question'.

'Do you like pizza?'
'Do you mind if I sit here?'
Friendlies taking a chance that the person they are asking is a friendly too.

From now on, I think I'll leave those earphones in my suitcase.

:)

I Am My Feelings