Today we took the wooden swing set apart. Tomorrow, its going to the town dump. First, I have to stop at town hall and pick up a dump pass. You know you're not in Dutches County anymore when you ask what proof of residency they need to see and they simply say, "Well, where do you live? That's all you need to tell us." Truly nice people confuse me sometimes, especially early in the summer.
So why is the swing set going to the town dump rather than being repaired? Aside from being in really sad repair it was made with pressure treated wood, which is scary stuff indeed. Although we could have repaired it and probably made it last another year or two, we couldn't get past the health risk of it. We did salvage the wavy slide, although I'm not certain what we're going to do with it. For frugality to be successful it has to take long term costs, like health, into account.
Another area of safety that I've been ignoring, is the cracked handle on my pressure cooker. I know its dangerous and I've been using it anyway. I'm finally going to let Jim toss it before I wind up with burns all over my body and food all over the ceiling. He'll be thrilled, he spends the first few days we're away cleaning up all the mess that I never seem to get to. This fits right in with his "its broken, its in my way, its not mine, therefore it must be garbage" summer policy.