One man's trash...

We spent a little bit today puttering around what used to be the parking lot on Via Fegina in the New Town. It's now something akin to a mildly organized garbage dump, but provided a bit of comic relief after an otherwise nightmare-ish morning discussing insurance options and other work related things. If you think it's a bureaucratic nightmare in the U.S., you should try it here. I think some of the laws are actually written specifically to confuse you, much like immigration law and visa policy, but that's another matter.

We wandered over to the dump/parking lot where lots of our friends were sorting the wood from the metal, and, again, I'm constantly impressed by how something as mundane and tedious as this can be made into something of a treasure hunt. We encountered a cousin of a cousin happily hauling away a fishing trap he recovered, and another friend testing out his new bow and arrows on an empty steel drum he set up a few meters away, while another proudly hoisted a broken ski he can repair while reading a destroyed art textbook, commenting on the passages, laughing. We left with a beautiful old print of a photo from the turn of the century of a wine harvest, and some muddy wooden wine crates Manuel is convinced are worth the effort to clean off. I obliged, but I'm leaving that fruitless effort in his hands. Regardless, I'm glad our new addition to the home got some "Oooooohs" and "Ahhhhhhs" from everybody here who needs a break, and a minute to forget about everything around us, and remember that even in the rubble, you can find something to treasure.