mostly david ephgrave

Day thirty-one in the Ephgrave household and Recycling Mountain has reached crisis point. What was once a non-threatening testament to the gluttony of Christmas is now structurally unsound, with no word as to when the bin men will take it away. Contributing to it is like a cross between dry-stone-walling and an outsized game of Jenga: every piece of packaging that’s added must surely be the last, and yet it never is, as there’s always something else to be slotted into a fortuitous gap or carefully balanced at the summit. It’s daunting to be confronted by how much a two-person, two-budgie and one-cat household can consume in just a week; I don’t know whether to be proud of or depressed by it. On one hand, it feels good to be giving something back to the planet, and yet I can’t help but be reminded of just how much other people will throw away; God forbid anyone should be expected to put in a little effort. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew whe...

Today was one of those glorious days when you (I) go (went) to the tip. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do for ages. For a long time I’ve had a lots of things stored in my outside cupboard that I needed to get rid of, to create space for me to get further into the cupboard so I can sort out more junk and take that to the tip too. Today only saw the first stage of this master plan, but it was still good to make a small dent on the reorganizing of my flat I'd like to do. It was perfect going-to-the-tip weather, being suitably drizzly and overcast. We also weren’t the only people with the same destination on our minds, as the slow-moving queue into the recycling centre was testament to. More the one car in front decided to bail out instead of wait, which seemed silly really, as (1) we weren’t stuck there for very long, and (2) it’s counter-intuitive to load your car up rubbish to have to take it home again; rather them than me. It was ...

I'm being overwhelmed by Smint tins.  For whatever reason, Smints are my present mint of choice. Extra Strong Mints are overrated - they're not all that strong - and Polos are old hat, yet the Smint has sufficient taste and potency to tick my breath-freshening box (singular).  A major deciding factor in my current brand preference, if I'm honest, is the packaging: Smints come in a sturdy tin that you feel you should keep for future use, once the contents are gone; throwing it away would be a crime against the planet, yet recycling doesn't seem to be an option. So, what happens when you get through as many mints in a week as me? You end up with a pile of scrap metal on your coffee table, that's what; my cat can't move for clinking.  There must be something I can use them for, though I can't for the life of me think what. Perhaps I could keep plectrums in them, or small change, or use them to put together and store small-scale sewing kit, though I'd hav...

When I took out my recycling today, I noticed something strange lurking by the bins. I leant in closer to see what it might be - and, lo and behold, it was a Sony SA W10 Super Acoustically-Loaded Woofer.   MORAL OF THE STORY: If you want to recycle your bottom-end enhancer, put it in the Bottom-End Enhancer Bin like everyone else. When it comes to some of the people who live in my area, I despair. Did the owner of this speaker believe it would be taken away? Of course not. They were just being lazy; taking the Homer-Simpson-in-The-Simpsons-episode-with-Steve-Martin approach of thinking "Can’t someone else do it?" I don’t understand why they went to the relative trouble of carrying their Super Acoustically-Loaded Woofer to the recycling area, which is a good 100 yards from anyone’s house, when they could have (a) put it in a car and taken it to the dump / a charity shop / a Cash Converters, (b) sold it online, or (c) th...

Last night I reached a personal low point. I ate a banana just before going to bed (as you do) – and was just about to throw away the skin when I remembered that we now also have a bin specifically for recycling food waste – and for a second, I was genuinely excited by the prospect. THIS IS WHAT MY LIFE HAS BECOME. As you get a little older your goalposts start to shift – and your expectation of what constitutes time well spent is lowered considerably. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to recycle a banana skin; it’s deriving pleasure from it that’s a cause for concern. It’s a bit like when I was on tour a few years back and got into the habit of buying a Kit Kat on two-show days. I’d reach a point in the second half of the matinee when my energy levels would dip – then I'd remember the chocolate bar back in my dressing room and my performance would palpably lift. I'd like to think my excitement was justified. It...