January 9th, 2019


Matthew cleared out a shed for somebody or other and because he gets shouted at for burning things on his farm he brought the rubbish round to ours.

Nobody shouts at us- though perhaps they should. But then nobody shouts at anyone round here because we're all middle class. Our neighbour has been burning some really foul smelling stuff this week. "Is it his wife?" asked Ailz.

(Come to think of it I haven't heard his dog recently- the young Alsatian that was chasing sheep at the back end of last year. Perhaps he gave it a Viking's funeral..)

We accepted Matthew's waste, because he's a mate... but....

"I'm not that happy about bonfires," said Ailz. "Especially not burning plastic."

"Me neither," I said.

So I forked some of the clippings into the bin we have for garden waste- and rarely use. The Council will dispose of it responsibly. Over a period of months I should be able to shift the lot. And I pulled the plastic objects out of the heap. There was a kiddy car and a kiddy scooter. Nothing wrong with them apart from being unloved. They'll clean up. Visiting children will play with them.

We're trying to develop a conscience about waste. Reuse, recycle, cut down on plastics.

Baby steps, baby steps...