under another sun

Mrs Kenny and I filled with a degree of steely resolve this morning, and we decided to take quite a few things to the recycling dump, and to a charity shop and generally sort out a corner of the house. First the triage of frowning at bits and wondering under what combination of circumstances, a meteorite strike, invasion of giant rats etc. would something remain useful. Useless things are dragged to the car. I always feel guilty going to the dump. The very name dump gives it a Freudian association with defecation, as if your house were having a poo. You void your junk from the boot of the car, hoping people aren't looking to closely at what you are dropping off, and then speed away feeling curiously liberated. Explaining this to Lorraine, she suggested this isn't an entirely helpful way of thinking about it. Home and companionably listening with Lorraine to the end of the  36 Views of Mount Fuji by Cathy N. Davidson audiobook. In the evening, collected Anton and then mad...

A rubbish day A recycling day today. I got up early and marched off to Lorraine's house where we cleared an area of her back garden of black bags, while her cats milled about excitedly. The bags were covered in variety of slugs, worms, spiders and seasoned with cat poo. Also cleared lots of broken things in my back garden, which were left behind by the plumber. After two cars full, and walking up and down many flights of stairs with heavy things, we both felt very virtuous. As one closed early, we visited two recycling plants. Both very busy. Something guilty about not being able to recycle everything, and depressing about the built-in redundancy that creates lots of the waste. Things are simply not built to last, nor to be easily fixed. But how would the economy fare if they were? Maybe, I thought later while purchasing a small microwave oven, we'd have to start focusing on important matters and not mindlessly consuming. I interviewed several people who were trying to promote...