bunn

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Back in... 1997, I think, my grandmother died, leaving a house stuffed to the brim with a lifetime's carefully sorted junk. We all took a few bits and pieces and then a house clearance company was called in to deal with the rest of it. My father in law, who has an interest in photography, took some of my grandfather's old cameras.

Fast forward twenty-odd years, and now my in-laws have developed a newfound interest in having a loft that is not stuffed full of old junk that someone thought looked interesting...( Read more... )

A couple of months ago, our council recycling service, which had started out seeming terribly prompt and efficient - stopped. The black binbags were still collected, but nobody collected the brightly colour-coded bags of paper, tins, cardboard etc.

I rang the council, who promised a two-day 'emergency pickup' which duly came and took the recycling away. And then, silence descended. No longer was the cheery glass-jingling, tin-can-clashing sound of the recycling lorry heard in our lane.

I rang the council again. Several times. I was enormously polite - indeed, some would say, cheery - but at the same time, pressing.
( In which social media comes rather unexpectedly to the rescue. )