Dumpstah Die-Vin

The first thing you should know is that I’m driving a Mercedes. That in and of itself is amusing. At least to me. It’s not mine and has some minor rust that could pass as tough guy racing stripes, but still. I’m driving a Mercedes. It looks mildly out of place parked in front of our torn up tenement. The neighbors peer curiously from their daily routines as they speculate what may have happened in the house of horrors shading our borrowed German-engineered machine.


Later in our workday, I needed to move Das Auto to make room for a much more important item. Das Dumpster! It would never have occurred to me that you could just call up Mumford and Sons (I’m not kidding….it’s Mumford and Sons. They’ve been in the South Kingston, RI trash business since 1947 – who knew. I thought they were just an annoying band) and have your very own full size dumpstah delivered right to your driveway.


I secretly love that I’m now friends with Mumford and Sons

I could never have imagined that I would own any home in it’s entirety. Let alone a complete dump. That’s just a bonus. Diana and I celebrated last September when we mailed off the final mortgage payment. Couldn’t believe we had a house with no lien. Unfortunately upon our arrival Sunday we found out that we do have a lien, it was just misspelled. Just about everything seems to lean.

This is Mumford’s Son. I got to stop traffic for him. 

Three days in and we’re making some headway. Kéa was super excited to outdoor rock climb in a competitive camp all week, but you know… You can’t always get what you want. In this case, Diana, Scotty and I are getting what we need. Kéa has been a massive contributor to our Save 91 High Street campaign. We had to send her inside early when the thunderstorm came through however. Those metal staples in her head are hard targets for lightning.

When questioned about the stove, our renters said that a screw just fell out…
You will you will wait for me….



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