It is 'hard rubbish' week

but what is 'hard rubbish'? Officially it is what you want to get rid of which is too large for the wheelie bin or must not be put in the recycle wheelie bin or in the green wheelie bin. (Yes, we have three bins these days.)
We do not use our green wheelie bin a lot. Most of our green stuff gets recycled inside the garden. My father has even been known to ask the lawn mower men for additional grass clippings. Our recycle bin is mainly a depository for news papers and the occasional bottle. Our other bin goes out most weeks and contains an odd assortment of the sort of detritus collected by most households.
None of this counts as hard rubbish. That's the big stuff. Dad had a little bit, like the old guttering and a couple of lengths of timber that had gone rotten and our old microwave oven. None of it is of any conceivable use to anyone else as it is now. The metal men may make something of the oven. The guttering is too rusty for them to be interested in it. It is our smaller contribution to global pollution. We try not to make it too large.
It is however always interesting to see what other people put out for the hard rubbish collection.
I observed the piles as I rode past on my way to the post office yesterday. There are the inevitable dining chairs, chests of drawers, computer desks, beds and mattresses, all in varying states of disrepair. There are old toys, particularly wheeled plastic toys and paddling pools shaped like shells. There are half used cans of paints, plastic buckets that once held rose fertiliser, two lounge suites, three recliner chairs, half a dozen canvas chairs, a kitchen table with three legs propped up by five boxes of National Geographic magazines. There are old garden tooks, more guttering, some old blinds, some broken polystyrene boxes filled with tins and jars and broken cane baskets. There is a roll of carpet and some sheets of roofing iron. Next to that there is a metre high stack of plastic icecream containers - all empty of course. There is an old dog kennel. I knew the dog. He died almost two years ago.
I continue on observing and thinking, "Yes, that could be repaired" and "Someone could use that." I see one of the locals who raises several hundred plants for the hospital fete each year. He is collecting unwanted plastic pots to recycle. He shakes his head and says, "What a waste Cat!"
I have to agree.
On my return. I notice a car with a trailer on behind. They are trawling the streets for anything they can use. It is not legal but it happens. I am not going to prevent recycling.
There is a rabbit hutch sitting outside one house. It looks new. I check to make sure there is no rabbit in it. People will discard anything.