For some reason, waste seems to be in the air today.
By that I don’t necessarily mean the stench of rotting whatever from the kitchen bin [I must get Herself to empty that] but the fact that I have received mails today from two different sources.
The first one was a thing about the enormous amounts of plastic waste and wouldn’t I just love to petition the gubmint to put a tax on plastic! No I fucking wouldn’t. I pay enough fucking tax as it is and anyway it isn’t up to me – it’s up to manufacturers who all seem to have shares in plastic making companies. It just goes to show how far down the pan we have gone when it is considered normal to demand a fucking tax as an answer to all our little problems.
The second was a notice to say that there is to be a free hazardous waste collection somewhere in the county this weekend. At last! Now I can get rid of all that Semtex and depleted Uranium I have littering up the house.
They give a list of what they consider to be hazardous, including such items as batteries and fluorescent tubes and oil and poison. They must be kidding? All my batteries go in the bin and if someone wishes to fish through my waste then they have my full permission. And I haven’t used those tubes in years [not since the mice ate through the wiring in fact] and anything poisonous I keep. You never know when you might need a good supply of poison?
They don’t mention asbestos, I notice. I had some asbestos guttering which disintegrated and which I had replaced. The bloke who replaced it pointed out that asbestos is highly dangerous [bollix!] and that a team dressed in Hazardous Materials suits would have to collect the old stuff and dispose of it “safely”. He reckoned on a couple of hundred quid would cover the work. I reckoned I could do it cheaper and just dumped the asbestos in the woods. Fuck that!
Back in The Good Old Days rubbish could be divided into just a few categories. If it was combustible it was burned. If it was degradable it went on the compost heap. If it was edible it was eaten [either by us kids or by the dog]. If it was explosive I would bring it out to the field behind the house and have some fun. If it was reusable it was reused and the minute fraction that was left over went into the bin.
Now everything is plastic. And there are many types of plastic, some of which go into the recycling and some don’t. Even the headcases who run the recycling businesses don’t seem to have a clue and the list varies from company to company. Seeing as the vast majority of the stuff gets dumped into landfill anyway, I just dump anything vaguely plastic into the green bin and let them sort it out.
It has just occurred to me.
I wonder if Herself’s ashtray is classed as Hazardous Waste?
It probably is.