Daisy Turnip writes.....
Our compost bin finally arrived just over a month ago and we are now religiously composting our food and garden waste (well, when I say ‘we’ – it’s the adult ‘we’ – teenager Daughter is a little on the forgetful side!) – I’m now even beginning to understand the requirements of a good mix of both green and brown waste!! Trust me, it’s a whole new language! However, I’m a little worried about the amount of tea bags that’s going in there – can there be too many tea bags in a compost bin?? We go through hundreds of the damn things – I’m sure we’ll end up with tea flavoured compost!
For all you old timers out there, as we trek across the garden, carrying our rubbish to the compost bin, we can be regularly heard shouting, ‘Compost corner’ and for all you youngsters, we occasionally chant, ‘We are recycling, we are recycling’ – the MacDonalds advert!?!
Our fortnightly recycling collection picks up the newspapers, glasses and tins but we have to take cardboard and plastics (‘bottles only’ said the recycling adviser, who firmly to me when I asked him to explain what PET etc etc was) to the local recycling centre – Hubby will only allow me - he’s put his foot down with a big hefty cotton woolly slipper! - to make the trip if we happen to be driving anywhere near the centre. His argument is that a special drive out to the recycling place negates what we are actually recycling in materials. This is true, but I’m a little suspicious of the fact that it’s more to do with the fact that he hates queuing for the pleasure of such boring activity!?
So,more or less, we are recycling all of our home waste now.
I know I’m going to sound a little bit like an anorak here, but it’s becoming a bit of a weekly challenge to see how little rubbish we can actually chuck out. I’ve just emptied the bin – the bag has been in the bin since last Thursday. I’m seriously chuffed, however I have noticed an increase in the number of flies in our house!!
Showing posts with label recycling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label recycling. Show all posts
Monday, 16 July 2007
Saturday, 24 February 2007
Saturday morning sleepathon
Daisy Turnip writes.....
Saturday morning is a morning of sleep. Unless we're going somewhere, or having friends to stay (we live miles from our friends and family so our house becomes a bit like a weekend B&B for said people) Saturday morning is a catch up on your zzzzzzzzzzzz's session. And I'm very good at my zzzzzzzzzz's. In fact, if there was an olympic medal for sleeping abilities, I'd win it hands down - every year! It truly is a perfected art of mine.
Anyway, I was looking forward to my Saturday sleep in. Ideally, I would have got up at 10am and having gone to bed at 10pm last night, this would have completed my regular 12 hour Friday night / Saturday morning sleepathon! Unfortunately for me, someone in our village decided that they'd already had enough sleep and by 7am was merrily working away with some power tool! God, some people are sick - fancy being up and about, working away at that time on a Saturday morning - have they no shame!!
The noise woke up Hubby first, he started chuntering away and then got up and closed the bedroom window (regardless of the weather and sub zero chill factor, hubby HAS to sleep with the window open. He therefore shouldn't complain about the depth and million rating tog factor of the duvet I had to buy in order to keep me warm). Hubby, being mr early bird, got up and cheerfully went downstairs. And being so good at my art, I fell straight back to sleep. Mmmmm, heaven - Saturday morning sleep in!
8.45am and someone is banging at our front door! WHAT!!!! Then is went again, bang bang bang. We have a big 'whackoff', heavy, big, massive, big, heavy door knocker! Ok, possible slight exaggeration there. But when it knocks, it's seems incredibly - especially when you're in bed and trying to sleep - loud! I foolishly thought, 'well Hubby is up, he'll get it' - in fact it was hubby banging the door! He then opens the letter box and starts calling me. The dog thinks this is all great fun - 'Dad's got a new game for us the play kind of thing!! I stagger down the stairs and let him in. He's standing there cheerily grinning away and tells me he thought he'd got his keys in his pocket - but he hadn't!
Hubby has now gone on the 'chick run' - he's a volunteer and once every couple of months, has to pick up a few old dears from their nursing home and take them to the local supermarket. He says it gives him 'quality reading time' - he gets to sit in the car reading his beloved newspaper, while they shop. He then drops them back home an hour or so later. He initially got kind of conned in to this role (a request to do it once only, to cover for someone who was away), but now actually enjoys it - i reckon, once he's done it, it gives him that 'i've been a good person feeling' - a bit like when you've taken 6 months worth of bottles (and yes, we have a few!!!), tins, cardboard, plastic etc to the council recycling centre!
Anyway, I've given up on my sleepathon today. I got up and did some heavenly chores instead!
Saturday morning is a morning of sleep. Unless we're going somewhere, or having friends to stay (we live miles from our friends and family so our house becomes a bit like a weekend B&B for said people) Saturday morning is a catch up on your zzzzzzzzzzzz's session. And I'm very good at my zzzzzzzzzz's. In fact, if there was an olympic medal for sleeping abilities, I'd win it hands down - every year! It truly is a perfected art of mine.
Anyway, I was looking forward to my Saturday sleep in. Ideally, I would have got up at 10am and having gone to bed at 10pm last night, this would have completed my regular 12 hour Friday night / Saturday morning sleepathon! Unfortunately for me, someone in our village decided that they'd already had enough sleep and by 7am was merrily working away with some power tool! God, some people are sick - fancy being up and about, working away at that time on a Saturday morning - have they no shame!!
The noise woke up Hubby first, he started chuntering away and then got up and closed the bedroom window (regardless of the weather and sub zero chill factor, hubby HAS to sleep with the window open. He therefore shouldn't complain about the depth and million rating tog factor of the duvet I had to buy in order to keep me warm). Hubby, being mr early bird, got up and cheerfully went downstairs. And being so good at my art, I fell straight back to sleep. Mmmmm, heaven - Saturday morning sleep in!
8.45am and someone is banging at our front door! WHAT!!!! Then is went again, bang bang bang. We have a big 'whackoff', heavy, big, massive, big, heavy door knocker! Ok, possible slight exaggeration there. But when it knocks, it's seems incredibly - especially when you're in bed and trying to sleep - loud! I foolishly thought, 'well Hubby is up, he'll get it' - in fact it was hubby banging the door! He then opens the letter box and starts calling me. The dog thinks this is all great fun - 'Dad's got a new game for us the play kind of thing!! I stagger down the stairs and let him in. He's standing there cheerily grinning away and tells me he thought he'd got his keys in his pocket - but he hadn't!
Hubby has now gone on the 'chick run' - he's a volunteer and once every couple of months, has to pick up a few old dears from their nursing home and take them to the local supermarket. He says it gives him 'quality reading time' - he gets to sit in the car reading his beloved newspaper, while they shop. He then drops them back home an hour or so later. He initially got kind of conned in to this role (a request to do it once only, to cover for someone who was away), but now actually enjoys it - i reckon, once he's done it, it gives him that 'i've been a good person feeling' - a bit like when you've taken 6 months worth of bottles (and yes, we have a few!!!), tins, cardboard, plastic etc to the council recycling centre!
Anyway, I've given up on my sleepathon today. I got up and did some heavenly chores instead!
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