So, I’m working checkout at the A&P, right? When I hear this conversation out of the corner of my ear: two women, voices lowered, talking fast in a urgent sort way. I mean, who wouldn’t listen in? “He wakes me up every morning at 5:00.” “Every morning?” “Like clockwork. I don’t mind it so much on weekdays. I have to be up for work, anyways. But, it’s the weekends, too.” “You think he’d let you sleep in at least one morning.” “Nope. He just won’t give it a rest. At first I thought it was kind of cute, you know? But frankly, it’s wearing me down!” “I don’t blame you. Not every morning.” Well, my …

One of the highlights of the transfer station for Charlie has always been the Swap Shop. It feels good to drop something off down there, knowing other folks will bring it home and enjoy it. And, sometimes that someone is Charlie. He’s always coming home with some treasure or other. That was until this week, when he made a horrible discovery. Now Charlie’s in mourning. I’ll let him tell you about it. Trouble at the Swap Shop With a lock on the door, a red cone below, The Swap Shop looked closed. I wanted to know So I asked my friend Dick, who works at the dump If he’d let me drop off my bicycle …