They have introduced some new recycling bins where I live. This is a good thing, as I like to do my bit to save the world.

It reminded me of my first few days in the flat which I now call home. I was under the impression I had already told this tale, but a quick search of the site, and it became clear I had not.

Anyway.

Like any incredibly popular individual who has moved to a new home, I had a small house-warming gathering. It went without incident and without complaint from my new neighbours, which was nice. The following morning I gathered together the many empty beer bottles, to recycle them and once again do my bit to save the world. A bit like a quite limited or uninterested superhero.

I ended up taking out approximately four carrier bags full of empty bottles and put them carefully in the clearly signed communal recycling bin. As I was returning from the bins I was greeted by one of my new neighbours.

“Hello, are you the new person at [number removed for secrecy reasons]?” asked the elderly lady in front of me.

“Yes. Yes I am. Hello.”

“Hi, my name is Margo. I just wanted to let you know that the recycling bin doesn’t take glass. It’s paper and plastic only.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. I’m afraid so.”

There was a bit of a tense silence as if she was waiting for me to say something else. Something like, “That’s a bit silly isn’t it?” or “I bet it wasn’t like that in the war?”

“They won’t take that glass you know.” she continued after our brief silent stand-off.

“Um, would like me to take it out of the bin?” I asked, hoping that this was not what she was implying should happen next.

“What a good idea. There’s a glass recycling facility a mile down the road.”

So this was how after just a few days in my new home I found myself climbing into a bin to retrieve about seventy beer bottles, all so I did not offend a new elderly lady neighbour. I was weak in those days.

On the plus side, about two weeks latter one of my friends was sick outside her front door.

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