Doing our bit!

Dear Recycling bags,

You know I think the world of you. Your predecessor was more than a bit crap. It blew away every week and rarely managed to keep a plastic bottle or cardboard tube contained. But then you arrived. Easy to use, easy to tie in a knot to keep all the contents enclosed (even on the windiest of days), and if you blew off that was fine too. The collectors would pick you up, I didn't have to helplessly try to retrieve you from a neighbour's garden or from under a car. Recycling bags, you make recycling a joy, not a chore.

I know every borough has its own methods of tackling recycling, but I have to say I like the way Redcar and Cleveland do it! I like the fact they have provided you, recycling bags.

We (by which I mean our council) have always seemed to  be at the forefront of recycling initiatives. I base this knowledge purely on the fact that when visiting friends/relatives around the country we could say things like !"What you don't recycle plastics yet?" and when they proudly showed us their newly council delivered recycling utensil we could say "yeah we've had one of those for ages". To put it bluntly, we were smug. Smug recylcists.

But no other boroughs I visited had quite managed to cotton on to how brilliant the see through roll of recycling bags were. And you are brilliant aren't you?

It was so easy. We religiously used you fortnightly. No drama. And just when we were running out, there you were - a new role - delivered by the friendly recycling men.

But then they stopped that.

It was too high risk. It appeared there was a household somewhere, probably, who wasn't recycling and just had rolls of you popping up every month and they would just keep putting you in a forgotten cupboard somewhere.

So we had to ring a number when we needed you. And the kind recycling men would drop you off. But they stopped that too, as it seemed some thrifty-but-naughty people were using you as bin bags to try and save a few quid.

So then we had to go to the Library to get you. But that was still a bit easy for the sneaky-but-thrifty people to do.

So they gave the library a spreadsheet and we had to tell them our address every time we got you.

And, it seemed, finally,  everything was going ok...

But then the Tories came into power and they said "MAKE THEM PAY!"

So they started charging £2 a roll and The FH said "no more" And our lovely love affair was over.

So I tried to replace you. I tried using Charity bags, like many others, because we have SO many of them I just wanted to use them. But quite rightly, they wouldn't take the charity bags. I mean it wasn't fair on that poor charity worker who thought his look was in one morning and bounded to the depot with a full van only to discover every single was full of milk cartons and toilet roll inners.

Then I tried black bin bags. But they wouldn't take those either. Because they have to be able to see your contents. Heaven forbid a rogue tin can or a newspaper gets inside and the pedantic recycling man unknowingly takes it away with the plastics!

So I went behind The FH's back and I went to library and I bought you. But it wasn't that flimsy little roll for £2 - it was a MEGA roll! Two years worth to be exact! The FH couldn't complain about that. You were a bargain!

So to all the  people who are no using you because those pesky Tories started charging... It's not that bad really, £2 every 2 years to help save the planet - I mean you pay a lot more that to have your regular rubbish shipped off to a landfill to sit and barely decompose for, like... FOREVER!

And finally, to end on a high I just wanted to let you know recycling bags, you have made difference. When I was at school a friend's dad would collect tin cans and take them hom to crush and send off to be recycled. We thought he was  wierdo. He was just ahead of his time. Before I left teaching I saw some school kids set up and run the school's recycling system as they were astonished the school didn't have one in place when they were all recycling at home.

I think you've pretty single-handedly  much changed the outlook of the youth. Ok the green box and the blue bag have played their part, but we know who's the brains of the operation.

Much Love

Your number 1 fan.


For more of my letters click here. For a blog that contains ONLY letters click here.

A letter to my big toe...

Dear Mega-Toe,

It appears you have a strong gene, as we have come to the conclusion, that not one, but all three, of our children have their very own Mega-Toe.

Of course the FH is a little upset about this, but I suggest we continue as we always have, by ignoring him.

I think during the past nine years we have got very good at it.

I know it hasn't been easy, for you in particular; his constant jibes, his inability to show any affection towards you and that look of disgust that creeps over his face if you got too close to him. But your composure and indifference have been nothing short of admirable.

And for the record Mega-toe, you are not a square. He is completely exaggerating when he says you are as wide as you are high! Granted, you are bigger than the average big toe, but a square you are not.

Anyway, it appears you have got the last laugh as you have made your mark on his offspring. And just think in a few years time, those little Mega-toes will be BIG mega-toes... Bigger than he could ever have imagined... Mwha ha ha ha ha!

Yours lovingly

The rest of me!




NB: I wrote a letter on the blog before here: "Dear Family Car Spaces". However, I have been inspired to write more letters after reading Letters from Ladycurd - they are very funny. Who knows? This may even become a regular feature, but  then again it may not, as I am a lazy-arse after all.

A letter to the parent and child spaces at supermarkets...

Dear Family Parking Spaces,

I am glad you exist.

Generally my driving is not good, however, there is one thing I can do - I can reverse park. I actually hover over "exceptional" on the scale of reverse parking.  And, occasionally, when The FH is in the passenger seat (only if he has had a drink), we  have a moment similar to the end of Toy Story 2 when Buzz's wings pop out. "Good Jockeying" he says and smiles at me like I just scored Liverpool's winning goal. Normally  my passengers look terrified, so this compliment goes a long way. 


So I can reverse park - but can I get a car in between those two white lines in a car park? No I can not. So Parent and child spaces, when they invented you, I thought: "I need a child"


I have a theory about you, my dear and lovely family spaces. And even though my theory should enrage my feminist roots, it doesn't bother me. Because the fact that you little gems exist makes me so happy, I have no room left for anger or feminism.


The Official Reason You Were Invented -  you were devised to help parents get the children in and out of the car, park buggies safely at the side of the car and walk safely, with child, to and from the supermarket.


My Theory - That you were devised specifically for drivers like me - bad ones. And as there is still a (very sexist) notion that the majority of bad drivers are women, plus, statistically, more women still do the family shop, and, statistically, more women than men take their children to the supermarket, then the "Big Brains" thought they would make the lives of those poor, little women, who struggle to make a decision at a roundabout, easier by giving them more room to park in when they are shopping.


And do I find my theory offensive? No it don't. Because I am that woman. I single-handedly shame the whole of my gender when I get behind the wheel. I am the woman who gives good female drivers a bad name. And for all you good-women-drivers out there, you know that story an arrogant, sexist turd tells that always begins with "I was behind this woman driver..." I am sorry you had to listen to that; that was woman probably me.


Therefore, Family Spaces I would like to thank you, not just for the extension of the white lines, but you also encourage me to take my children shopping more, something without your existence would be a rarity.


Though, I do have a confession whilst I have been pregnant, I have been even been abusing the privilege; I have actually parked upon  you without any children in my car. But I honestly thought you would be sympathetic as I dare the car park attendant to challenge me, my rant fully prepared, (which included asking him to squeeze a bump this size out of a car door in a regular space and explaining how if there was ever a time a person needed an extra 50cm to help them park it is was when they were 8 months pregnant).


Take care Family Spaces and may you continue to bring joy to the car park, the bad driver and the world!


Yours,


The woman who got a license based purely on her reverse park.