Frustrating garbage...

2017, Thursday the 19th.  While yesterday I had to explain to a stray Englishman who, with a van and fully loaded trailer, was looking for the house he had bought, unseen, by a so-called real estate agent, that there is no such thing as “free healthcare" in Portugal, but that it’s just regulated differently through tax money,  and in fact premiums have to be paid above a certain amount of income, I found myself repeating the whole tune, for the umpteenth time, on which steps to take, to live officially and according to the rules in Portugal, a representative of the German chemical company Bayer, tried to convince Trump, with the promise of creating 3. 000 new jobs, that he should stand behind the merger with Monsanto.  In the meantime, the leader of the German radical party AfD tries to revive the ideas of Hitler, the new "jugend" jubilate with one hand in the air and in the other hand a blond beer with white froth, an entrepreneur invests in a shoe factory that will specialize on brown boots and the Dutch police goes to a “crime scene” with a dozen agents blinded by adrenaline, to violent arrest a bus passenger for eating a sandwich.  It's Thursday and so today the dumpsters, which are placed every few hundred metres along the way, are emptied. No, here in the countryside we don’t have green, yellow, blue or gray garbage boxes with personalized crafts to confirm ownership, there is no reason to do so. Green waste does not exist, everything edible goes to the goats or the pigs, all combustible things are going into the stove and even here, glass and batteries go in the appropriate containers at the village square.  Scrap metal, discarded or broken appliances and furniture, usable clothing and bedlinen, are placed next the container and there is almost always someone passing by who sees a benefit in that material.  What’s left is that damn plastic, supermarket packaging and the non recyclable nasties, are disposed by the under-respected garbagemen and their big truck.  The postman brings news, personal messages and peace of mind disruptive bills.  Every Wednesday evening I, demonstratively, throw all envelopes and promotional leaflets whose content adversely affected me in the container at the foot of the Hill.  The garbage collectors are the clearers of my frustrations, they are heroes!