There's a good deal of tension on our street this morning. No one wants to make a fool of himself.
But some of us will.
Our black wheelie bins go out today. But also it's the annual "Is this the week they restart collecting the brown compost bins?" week. These bins are for garden and food waste (in wee degradable plastic bags - what will they think of next?), and they aren't collected for three months over the winter. The collections restart in March, but CAN sometimes begin at the end of February.
By late February most of us are in despair and have been out in our yards with a stepladder. Instructions: Open brown bin lid, climb up ladder, step into bin. Jump up and down. Climb out and descend ladder, worrying about what is now on the soles of your shoes. Add some garden or food waste to bin, since rats and heaven knows what else have been at it. Wish earnestly it was March. Repeat every two days from Boxing Day onwards.
I must congratulate Belfast City Council on a website which aims to answer every question we could possibly have about bin etiquette. I have read it three times and it still leaves me in doubt. I think there's no collection, but there MIGHT be. Writing that kind of in conclusive FAQ section must take some skill. One slip up, and people can be sure what you mean. And just imagine the legal ramifications of that!
On balance I think the brown bin has little chance of being emptied today, but this hasn't stopped 80% of householders on this street putting theirs out in hope. I held out until about 0800 when I finally followed the flock and added mine to the row of "I can't understand the website" shame. Well I mean, if you aren't in, you can't win.
But think of the shame this evening when the black bins are emptied. The brown bins on the other hand are sitting there, neglected and untouched. After dark, one by one, humiliated householders will creep out, and drag their still-heavy brown bins back to the dank waiting area that is the back yard, reflecting on the prospect of two more weeks of stepladder roulette. Within five minutes they'll be re-reading the Belfast City Council website and muttering. "Ah THAT'S what they mean..."
My Dad once told me that the older I got, the more I'd care about everything that my 18 year old mind currently thought was dull and inconsequential.
You see he understood. I didn't.
I do now.