In the far-off days when darling Kenny gardened for us, he always emptied the bins. He came in for morning coffee and afterwards peered in the bins and if there was enough in them to empty, he did so.
Now, I always maintain that emptying the kitchen bins is a man’s job. The Sage does virtually no housework except sometimes unpacking the dishwasher, so I think it’s reasonable. And he does, eventually.
When we enlarged the kitchen garden and built the wall round it, we moved the compost heap. It was meant to be temporary, but temporary isn’t short-term at the Zedery (there is no correct spelling, spell it however you like) and it’s been there for several years. And the Sage had to take the vegetable peelings to the compost heap because it was in an overgrown area and I couldn’t fight my puny way through the nettles (well, I’m bare-legged in the summer and lazy in the winter, which is quite enough reason). However, I finally set up the new compost heap a few weeks ago back in the kitchen garden. I scythed the grass (obv, I hadn’t dug that area), soaked newspapers and put them on top and put some half-rotted compost from the old heap and a load of grass clippings on top of that. Such is my casual manner, yet it gets things done one way and another. Since then, I have found myself emptying the compost bin … well no, that’s not fair to the Sage, I said I’d take my turn and it so happens that it’s been my turn each time, but he’d do it if I asked him, very willingly.
What wasn’t part of the deal was emptying the two other bins. So why do I do it? Dammit, my standards have risen. Bloody housepride.
I have good news for the Sage by the way, and many thanks to Blue Witch for making it known, that from November 18th (random date as that is) classic cars – pre-1960 – will no longer have to have an MoT certificate. The garage he takes his old Rover to for its test is about 10 miles away and the car needs to rest a bit on the return journey. It goes jolly well when it’s running mind you, almost reaches 30 mph going downhill. But then the fuel fizzles out and it stops for a bit.
Sir Bruin does a lot of bin emptying chez bears. I sometimes do the kitchen one but he tends to do the rest as a full bin offends him!
That is a very nice picture of the zedery at the top of the page, by the way.
I have been doing housework this week… not like me at all.
We now have separate bins for recycling and kitchen and garden waste as well as “refuse” and I never bloody know what to put in what. I mean, you seem to be able to recycle just about anything these days ~ plastic bottles and all. It’s crazy!!
Talking of old cars I found a travel guide to Aden from 1961. That was full of the most ancient adverts for Vauxhall Vivas and Hillman Minxes etc etc. Really entertaining!! 😉
My town is very recycle oriented, separate bins for yard/food waste, recycle and trash. It is irritating standing in front of the bins, not sure where you should throw away a specific thing. Ahh the good old days, when stuff you wanted to throw away just went in one big garbage can.
I empty all the bins in our house. I’m the only one who can work out which recycling bin to use. Hmm. Made a mistake there, haven’t I?
I was amazed to find, when I had my compost green bin delivered by the council, that I’m not allowed to put kitchen compost in only garden waste! I ignore this obviously just don’t tell them please.
Sudden onset of pure jealousy, Liz. The Sage couldn’t care less if the bins are full. If I want one emptied, I have to stand it by the door!
There must be so many mistakes, I reckon that we should just separate into wet waste, dry waste and vegetable waste and it all be sorted at the other end. There are so many variables – a mile from here, cans should be crushed before putting in the recycling bin, but here they have to be left whole.
AQ – yes, love.
That’s absurd, Zig. And mum’s the word.
Oh, and Gledwood, I used to recognise different makes of cars in those days, they were all so distinctive! Now I hardly know one car from another.
Barney always did the compost bin (nettles and laziness me too) but it’s asking a bit much of a man on crutches so it’s my job at the moment. (Oops, needs doing too)
I wholeheartedly agree that bins ought to be a man’s job.
Sorry, just stopped LOLing having completely misread “always peered in the bins”.
I’ve finally given up, Mig. It’s easier to just do it.
Very good accelerator for a compost heap, Tim x