Turns out that if you want to get rid of a broken stationary bicycle from the 70s, the best way to do it is to go to the New Haven dump. But it's not really that simple. First, Google maps sends you to an address which doesn't exist. Bonnie, the gps, did one better and sent us down a terrifying side road with all sorts of No Trespassing on Penalty of Death type signs (and No Dumping signs, which, in retrospect, I should have agreed with Pete were a clear sign that we were not in the right spot, but at the time I had some other logic going on), that we drove down nevertheless. At the end of the terrifying road they confirmed that we were indeed not at the dump, but pointed to a hill and said that the dump was over that hill. They didn't know how to get there via roads, but, you know, as the crow flies is kind of helpful I guess.

Anyway, after finding two school bus depots we found the dump! Which is very confusing because it is covered in "Do Not Enter" signs. We asked another guy and he explained that the "Do Not Enter" signs? They're wrong. They just haven't changed them yet. They should actually say "Enter." Obvi.

After another chat with a very nice man we dumped the bike (that's the first picture) and left.
After our very productive (if longer than expected) dump trip we had a big storm and lost power. Power outages mean less packing and more wine! So we drank a super delicious bottle of wine (Thanks, Dad!!) out of plastic cups and sat around being pleased with ourselves that we hadn't yet packed all the candles. Why we've packed all the glasses but not all the candles is not entirely clear.

And here's me spilling wax on myself by accident. Holy crap we're leaving tomorrow.