I suppose the effort of recycling may extend the life of the worlds resources by a few weeks but it does give me a warm feeling to recycle. Why is that? As a fifty plus Yorkshireman to whom recycling, until the last couple of years, has been a non event, the recognition that my grandchildren (my kids haven't even got regular girlfriends!) may have to live in a world that will be more difficult to navigate through that I have been lucky enough to enjoy has been motivation enough.
There are a few stumbling blocks to overcome to wipe out any vestiges of cynicism I may have about the efficacy of recycling. A good friend works on a redundant landfill site monitoring methane and other nasty gasses, and he tells me all sorts about mysterious lorries turning up to remote parts of the landfill site where he works and dumping 'stuff'. No one is allowed to go close enough to examine the material. Other rumours abound that since the start of the 'depression', sorry Gordon, 'recession', recycled material isn't worth the effort because there is no return. Since the Chinese have been hit by the worlds troubles, they are no longer snapping up the world's detritus. Such material is simply being dumped apparantly. If it is - I would be very annoyed - I might even write a letter!
Continuing with the recycling theme, concerned that my identity might be stolen, I am a regular shredder of the important rubbish that comes through the door about 11.30am when the postman gets round to visiting. I end up with black bin liners full of the stuff but my local council (East Riding of Yorkshire) tell me I can't put it in my blue recycling bin because the shredded paper falls off the conveyor belt, gets into the works and sets it alight! Wrap it in newspaper (like fish and chips presumably) and place it carefully in the blue bin they say. I can only imagine that when the bin gets lifted onto the bin man's lorry and the contents get violently shaken into its smelly belly, the quality of my wrapping will not be sufficient to save it from being strewn all over the place and be a potential fire hazard in some anonymous warehouse somewhere! I wonder if there is a night class for effective chip wrapping?
Some weeks ago, I took my black bin liner full of shredding to the local tip and attempted to put the shredded paper into the requisite bin through a slot about the size of a large letter box slit with the result that my hands were getting trapped in the flap and most of the shredded paper went on the floor. I got a bollocking for my trouble.
I went today and the man at the gate to the tip politely said that he would open the back door of the large bin and I could walk in, tip it all out with the proviso that I didn't leave the bin liner in the bin. Why couldn't the guy a month ago been as helpful? Duly dumped, tidily and without littering the surrounding area, I am now attempting to physically warm up at home listening to the football on the radio and cuddling a mug of tea. So there we are - I am spiritually and physically warmer than I was all through putting paper in a bin.
Four spelling errors today!
Chat soon. Ta-ra!