Hard Rubbish Collections

So, I had to go into my doctor’s office this morning for them to withdraw a substantial amount of blood out of my arm for tests – more on that some other time – but this little road trip brought something to my attention. The local council has called a hard rubbish collection day.

Now, the general idea of a hard rubbish day, is that once or twice a year, if you have a small amount of odd stuff lying about that by rights can’t go into a standard bin and should go to the tip, but there isn’t enough to warrant a trip to said tip, the council will bring round a couple of big trucks to your area, grab said offending materials, and (surprise, surprise) take them to the tip for you!

Now, I’m not going to rant on about what an appropriate amount of junk left out the front of your place on the nature strip should be … instead, I’m going to rant on about the quality of the material left out on said strips.

As I said, my little road trip today had me pass numerous piles across numerous strips. What really surprised me, at first, was the amount of lounge suites dumped out there … obviously, the economy must be doing well if that many are (assumedly) buying new suites and tossing out the old … but that aside, most of the suites were still quite structurally and aesthetically (not making comments on peoples choices of fabrics, etc) sound.

The next thing item that struck me was old kids toys, bikes, and other miscellaneous knick-knacks (that I’m sure the unscrupulous flea marketeers are going to be pleased with this evening as they perform their midnight runs) that seemed to be in fine working order.

Sure. I could go on about the wastage that the western society lifestyle breeds … but really the main question here is – why didn’t they call the Salvation Army, Brotherhood of St Laurence or any of the other such organisations out there that could utilise this potential bounty for their charity or Op Shop selling ventures?

Worst case scenario, they would have said, heck, leave it out on the strip.

That’s all, the Xanax is calling …


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