When black means bad
The grocery delivery is due shortly.
It could be any time between one and three so I usually open up the garage doors before one. That allows the delivery chap bring the swag through to the kitchen table. Unless of course it’s the narky bollocks who just leaves them in the front garden for me to bring in.
Opening up the garage doors is usually a good time to put out some rubbish so I removed the bag from the kitchen bin and collected another from the garage and brought them out to the black bin. The latter was a lot heavier than I expected and looking inside I discovered it was nearly full. There was nothing suspicious about this. The bags were mine and some neighbour hadn’t been availing of my depository so it was just a case of forgetting that I had already nearly filled it.
Leastwise the black bin is now full to capacity and after the current warm spell is beginning to pong a bit ripe.
Then I realised something – it’s Friday! Fuck!
I whipped out my phone and checked the calendar, praying that today was Green Bin Collection Day. It wasn’t. I had missed the collection. Shit!
Now this doesn’t bother me overly much. It just means putting more than usual in the green bin. Maybe they’ll find ways of recycling old plate scrapings, vacuum bag contents, dog shit and rotten stuff that had gone off in the fridge? They’re quite clever these days. And anything that is too disgusting to even go in the green bin can just languish in a bag in the garage.
But the black bin in the garden is going to be quite something as it sits there soaking up the sun’s rays in the coming fortnight. If it’s ripe now, what’s it going to be like in two week’s time? Par-boiled crap? Well cooked gunge?
I pity the neighbours..
Do you not have seagulls, crows, rodents, foxes, etc. which just love bulging, pongy black plastic bags.
Half the contents, even the Dog poo, will be eaten, and the remainder will be strewn about, willy-nilly.
Who was Willy Nilly? Did he have a long suffering wife who had to go searching for all the little Nillys every evening?
There is a story to be told.
Do what a fox would do if it had half a brain and opposable thumbs.
Empty that bag on the back lawn, leave it for 13 days or whatever the cycle is, then re-bag and put out for collection.
Sir.
We should only put out to recycle what’s left when nature can’t do it for us.
An interesting solution, if a bit messy. We don’t have seagulls [too far inland] but we have the rest in abundance. The problem is the mess. I suppose I could use the back of the North Wood? But then I’m left with picking up the remainder which would be somewhat stomach-churning? I have had to do that in the past when some cunt up the lane started chucking his rubbish into my plot.
I was an IT guy before I retitred last Year. When I was first a programmer in 1982 the rumor was the 3GL programming languages such as Cobol were making the guys that wrote Assembler and machine code reduntant. A couple of years later we were told that 4GL would make all us Cobol programmers out of work. Then I waorked on Data Basic and databases, now its 1989. And I was working on 4GL and databases until I retired last year.