To redress the balance of my most recent 'I have been to ...' blog entries (which all seem to be an excuse for me to write about the cruises my wife and I go on), I thought that I ought to mention where I have spent part of my day today ... the Havering Land Reuse and Recycling Centre.
This is situated in the unusually named 'Gerpins Lane', and is a wonderful example of its type. As one drives in, one is met by a 'jobsworth' who checks to see if you have the right to use the centre. If you have, you are admitted; if you do not, they charge you £10.00 per carload of rubbish.
Luckily I had proof that the rubbish I was disposing of/recycling was local, and therefore I did not have to pay. I then drove around the various different areas within the centre, disposing of the rubbish into the appropriate bins or adding it to the existing piles in the various storage/processing buildings.
Most of the rubbish I was getting rid of was not recyclable, and that will have to be buried in a landfill site somewhere.
So why was I spending my time in such an exotic location when I could have been play-testing the latest draft of my PORTABLE WARGAME 2 rules? The answer is very simple; I was trying to get rid of the last of the more portable (and unwanted) stuff from my father's house before the furniture can be removed.
My links with 'Gerpins Lane' go back a long time ... a very long time. When I was a teenager, the site was part of a farm to which I used to deliver newspapers. It was one of several farms on my delivery route and – if my memory is correct – it was the furthest away from my starting point. The farm had a guard dog ... and the guard dog did not like delivery boys! I had several 'run ins' with the dog, culminating in it biting through the back tyre of my bicycle whilst I was trying to get away from it! Needless to say, that was the last time I delivered newspapers to the farm, and not long afterward I got myself another part-time job in a nice new supermarket.
The guard dog is long gone … as is the farm, but I will have to go back to ‘Gerpins Lane’ again soon as I did not quite finish the task of clearing my father’s house. However that task can wait; I have a set of wargames rules to play-test … and with a bit of luck I might actually manage to do that tomorrow!
This is situated in the unusually named 'Gerpins Lane', and is a wonderful example of its type. As one drives in, one is met by a 'jobsworth' who checks to see if you have the right to use the centre. If you have, you are admitted; if you do not, they charge you £10.00 per carload of rubbish.
Luckily I had proof that the rubbish I was disposing of/recycling was local, and therefore I did not have to pay. I then drove around the various different areas within the centre, disposing of the rubbish into the appropriate bins or adding it to the existing piles in the various storage/processing buildings.
Most of the rubbish I was getting rid of was not recyclable, and that will have to be buried in a landfill site somewhere.
So why was I spending my time in such an exotic location when I could have been play-testing the latest draft of my PORTABLE WARGAME 2 rules? The answer is very simple; I was trying to get rid of the last of the more portable (and unwanted) stuff from my father's house before the furniture can be removed.
My links with 'Gerpins Lane' go back a long time ... a very long time. When I was a teenager, the site was part of a farm to which I used to deliver newspapers. It was one of several farms on my delivery route and – if my memory is correct – it was the furthest away from my starting point. The farm had a guard dog ... and the guard dog did not like delivery boys! I had several 'run ins' with the dog, culminating in it biting through the back tyre of my bicycle whilst I was trying to get away from it! Needless to say, that was the last time I delivered newspapers to the farm, and not long afterward I got myself another part-time job in a nice new supermarket.
The guard dog is long gone … as is the farm, but I will have to go back to ‘Gerpins Lane’ again soon as I did not quite finish the task of clearing my father’s house. However that task can wait; I have a set of wargames rules to play-test … and with a bit of luck I might actually manage to do that tomorrow!
Well, you certainly know how to make retirement sound sexy don't you? First week off and you go to the rubbish dump?
ReplyDeleteOut of curiosity how exactly does one provide proof of origin for one's rubbish?
Peter
Sounds like its a good thing the R&R Centre doesn't keep a guard dog loose in the compound, for old times sake.
ReplyDeletePeter Douglas,
ReplyDeleteI have done my best to make it sound like retirement is just one long round of 'beer and skittles'! Am I failing to do that?
The proof of identity I produced was one of the council's own demands for council tax. That seemed to satisfy the 'jobsworth'. Not very fool-proof, is it?
All the best,
Bob
Ross Mac,
ReplyDeleteThey do have a notice by the entrance that warns 'visitors' that guard dogs are used to protect the site at night. I suppose that is to stop people stealing the rubbish!
Ah, the joys of being chased by an angry dog! How I miss it ... not!
All the best,
Bob
Good to see you're living life in the fast lane!
ReplyDeleteHi Bob
ReplyDeleteIt is true that work expands to fill the available time. On the other hand, it's good to be useful.
Enjoy.
Tim Gow,
ReplyDeleteI can hardly keep up!
All the best,
Bob
Arthur,
ReplyDeleteTrue on both counts!
All the best,
Bob
PS Cycle up there one night, the dog may be kin of the previous incumbent, your great chase might be dog legend there! See what happens...
ReplyDeleteOh yes, carry pepper spray, and smear cooking fat laced with chilli powder on your tyres.
Arthur,
ReplyDeleteIt sounds like a good idea ... but forty five years ago the dog managed to catch me and the intervening years have not made me any faster!
All the best,
Bob
Faster, shmaster . . . who needs faster? You've essentially been studying tactics ever since you started wargaming . . . surely you can outmaneuver a dog, can't you?
ReplyDelete-- Jeff
Bluebear Jeff,
ReplyDeleteI wish that I shared your belief in my skill and abilities!
All the best,
Bob