I’m wrestling with the Recycling this week, and I really do mean that quite literally – the struggle with the Vale Council’s new regime is real.
Two slugs on my blue bags just waiting for my hand to squash on them, two bin bags full of sharp objects ready to stab me.
A bag of once green Garden Waste I have been forgetting to put out since about August, the smelly food waste container. And I’ve just twatted my head trying to get the ‘Old Skool’ box out of my Bin Store.
Absolutely gutted that the Vale Council have changed my ‘bin night’ from a slow time Tuesday to totally terrific Thursday.
Everyone knows Thursday is the new Friday – and I certainly do show my chubby little chops at many a cheeky little function on that fag end day of my working week.
Now, I’ll be wrestling with the aforementioned trash in the witching hour whilst dodging the array of other residents recycling receptacles…and it’s usually raining.
It’s a good job I don’t drink when I’m out in the week or I’d be asking some poor Taxi Driver to give me a hand.
It’s no use asking ‘the kids’ to put it out. Darling Daughter’s too busy having it large in Hackney. And when I asked Handsome Harry to do it once when I was in London – he moved the lot…from the garden to the kitchen…and then just left it there.
Now, let’s be clear eco warriors, I’m not knocking the drive to recycle, and I am chuffed to bits we’ve got some of the best targets in the world.
Also, speaking as someone who once said she didn’t have time for all that rubbish (pun totally intended), when it was voluntary, I could now win an Award for ‘Once Reluctant Recycler of the Year.’
I have even made my own little garbage heaven storage out the Back. My former Bike Store, is now a fully operationally waste and refuse facility to rival the Sully Skip.
The fact that Chels’ bike is snuggled up to my sun loungers in the Shed, Harry’s is stuck in the Hall daring me to trip over it every time I pass. And mine, resplendent with rust and fully flat of tyre, is against the back fence most of the time, is neither here nor there.
God knows how people in flats, smaller gardened houses, or with a large family manage – where the Hell do they put it all?
I’ve got two dustbins, two green boxes, two blue bags, too garden waste sacks and that food waste thingy – with it’s smaller friend sat smirking at me from under my sink.
Well, I have at that moment, where they end up after tomorrow’s collection is anyone‘s guess.
That’s another regular ritual I’ll have to do on Friday not a Wednesday now – sneak around the Cul De Sac until I spot all the stuff with my sticky Home Bargain house numbers slapped on.
And just when I’d finally got the recycling into a fine art – it’s changing again. I’ve seen that from next year there’s even more stuff to sift with more bags and boxes to use!
That’s me over Buyology getting the gear to stick shelves up in my Bin Store then.
I do love a bit of DIY and I am quite handy with a power tool these days , but may have to try my hand at building an extension now too. Not bothered about that really to be honest as we all know there’ll be instructions on YouTube.
So now that, at last, our happy home’s trash is all out there, rammed tightly between my front fence and my Beemer, Bin Night is now officially over for another week.
I think I’m going to have a very large Glass of Red to celebrate.
Just the one mind.
I can’t be arsed to go put the bloody empty bottle out.
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Sue Vincent-Jones, writing as Mrs SVJ, is a Barry born journalist, editor, and communications specialist.
She blogs, and writes, about all things Barry – and her life in the wider world, through the eyes of a, quirky and queer, local girl done good.
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