RECYCLING

Now that we have wheelie bins for everything I am actually enjoying the new recycling system. I happily tear up cardboard boxes so they fit into the paper-pod. Yes, I know I’m odd. It’s just that I was brought up to believe that you can’t successfully fit a square peg into a round hole and in that regard the new wheelie bins are extremely challenging.  I’m the same with the dishwasher, placing crockery in the right places means I get more in. As with the cardboard ... even if they fitted it’s no good stuffing whole boxes in because that limits the available, somewhat inadequate space. The section for paper is tiny compared to the rest of the bin which doesn’t even get a quarter full. Obviously, designers are not what they were!

The centre bin has a small paper-pod at the top

Paper-pod 

Here’s a thought that came to me whilst dismantling an empty box: now that we have to do so much recycling, wouldn’t it be a good idea if box manufacturers simplified designs, used less staples and/or glue. The other day I came across one that was cleverly designed ... not a speck of adhesive anywhere. The design was in the cutting, with strong cardboard flaps that slotted into each other. I didn’t need scissors or brute strength to get that one ready for recycling. Perhaps I should suggest it. Perhaps it would earn me a few pennies for ingenuity. Perhaps not, since someone else already thought of it. What I need to do is lambast all the firms who make cardboard boxes, and I would – if I could be bothered.

What amuses me most are cartons that are made from waxed card. It’s not the cartons themselves that make me smile, it’s the tiny plastic pourer and screw cap. Small enough to be missed yet, apparently, extremely valuable. It’s a bit like finding a gem in a haystack, don’t you think? Unfortunately the time hasn’t come when waxed card can be recycled but the plastic cap can so consistently I peel it off the box. What a privilege for such a tiny object to share a bin with all the other plastic, metals and glass that households gather with such abundance. 

So, after flattening the carton and disposing of the pourer/cap we throw the carton in the ordinary refuse bin. While all this recycling is going on the refuse bin is almost empty while the others could be spilling over, or would be if we hadn’t been warned about THAT!

Plastic carrier bags are handed over to the man who delivers the groceries;

apparently the supermarket does its own recycling. As already stated paper goes separately and we do our fair share in that department.... literally throwing into the bin all the unwanted and unsolicited free newspapers, brochures, and advertising leaflets. And thereby hangs another moan. Whoever designed the wheelie bins obviously had a warped sense of humour or he missed out on the heaps of reading matter thrust through his door. That’s why I spend so much time ripping up boxes and folding paper so that it will all fit in that too-small space.  I mean, we have to allow for newspapers, don’t we? It would take far too long to shred them before recycling!

Recycling

If it's not black backs dropping through the letterbox, it's the army of collection bins in the supermarket car park that encourage us to recycle our unwanted chattels. The charities do well out of us, rightly so, but I didn't know we'd gone as far as having Bra Bars.

Last visit to the supermarket revealed all. No, not ALL in the sense of the female body, I mean the assortment of bins.

Together with the old favourites for bottles, plastic bags, paper, cardboard, books and bulbs we have bins for clothes. Some offer to pay 50p for garments; others just want them for free. Then there are bins for shoes, providing they are tied together to make a pair, handbags, preferably empty, belts, and purses, again – empty!

And now we have the bra bar, a separate bin altogether from ordinary clothing. The more I think of this the more I wonder why, after all clothing is what they are. Why separate them?

I haven’t seen anyone use it yet but I can imagine women secreting their undies in brown paper bags so nobody can see the condition of their cast-offs (sweat marks, or those rusty wire spots left on the garment after frequent washing) then furtively removing the garment from its bag and thrusting it through the hole, sighing with relief as it drops down to join the pile of now hidden garments. Or will they gather together to compare notes as to who wears bras with the most lace or padding or wires, or who has the biggest parcel!

I wonder if this recycling facility will be used by elderly women or young nubiles? Will it encourage men to hover or ogle when the bras are placed or thrown, unwrapped, in the bins?

I suppose it will be knickers next, in a container all their own. I mean, if bras have to be divorced from coats, frocks and trousers then knickers have a right to their own bin. I foresee the addition of changing rooms in the car park, swapping new for old and dumping the unwanteds in the appropriate container. I just hope there is a provision of sufficient brown paper bags in case there’s a bit of a walk from closet to bin, with a nice watchman keeping things in order.

But, hang on, what about the men? Are underpants classed as clothing or will they get their own changing room and recycling container. I know some ladies might like to see their men recycled but I was talking about their clothes ... and visualising a queue of eager females waiting on the off chance they might see something they shouldn’t. Just as long as they don’t get recycled themselves!

Me, I’ll stick with filling black bags for the charities to collect. 

See NOTE FOR THE DAY at the top of the sidebar

TELLING TALES

It’s lovely to receive greetings cards on birthdays or Christmas but what do you do with yours after the event? People give them to charities, or the recycling unit, or even strip them down for reuse. When I say reuse, I mean cut them up to make gift tags or decoration on home-made cards. But in the old days of rationing and lack of cash the cards could be used again. It was easy because most had an inserted leaf with printed greeting that could be removed so no-one was aware that the card had been reprocessed.

My mother wouldn’t admit to such a practice but she did it nonetheless. She would carefully remove the insert and checked the card for indentations from pen nibs, random ink blots, and other betraying signs, before writing her own greeting.

I don’t expect many people wrote to thank the senders of cards but we did acknowledge presents that way. Unlike today, I might add. Often now it’s an email or nothing. I cannot remember how old I was but I was old enough to write thank you letters, which I did with passion. Here’s what I wrote to a pseudo aunt. She was no relation, just my mother’s friend, but we were very respectful in those days. Here's the gist of my message:

Dear Auntie Carrie. 

Thank you for the lovely present and the Christmas card. Mommy liked the card. She showed it to everybody. She said she could see where you tore out the paper from the middle so you could use it again. It made everyone laugh. 

Lots of love, Valerie.  

Mom nearly killed me when she received Auntie Carrie’s letter. They didn’t speak for years after that, no matter that Mom was as guilty as her friend when it came to reusing cards. As you can imagine I grew up knowing that whatever I wrote could be taken down and used in evidence if I didn’t choose words carefully.  

It's my birthday today... perhaps that's why I went back in time to an almost long-forgotten incident. Cheers, everyone.