What a load of rubbish

I HAD a good Christmas. It's now a distant memory but 'twas a good one nonetheless. What wasn't so good was sitting in the queue at the local tip.

Car .... upon car .... upon rubbish-filled car .... all sat behind one another one weekday morning between Christmas and New Year, with countless passengers breathing in everyone elses exhaust fumes and just hanging around in the hope that the queue would shorten in time to get home before dark.

Ever the impatient one, I did a swift U-turn after 15 minutes, only to take my stash of trash home with me and add it to the pile that already sat there. And there it sat until normal refuse collection service was resumed last week. We had a pile that big, I feared any visitors would start calling us 'Stig' and pondered whether the binwagon boys would actually take that amount away in one go.

My cunning plan of lining them up in a neat procession all the way up the driveway worked a treat - this didn't look half as much as when they were piled up on top of eachother in the corner. I was tempted to lay them out in a squiggly sort of line .... up the driveway, around the car and then upto the front door, like a trail of breadcrumbs, but didn't want to push my luck and risk upsetting our council staff.

Our boys of the binwagon have now restored my path to its former glory having chucked all 18 bags of rubbish into the back of their truck.

What a valued team they are.