For the last eight weeks I've been on a diet. A rubbish diet. No, not one of those faddy foodie things that makes huge claims for your waistline but that doesn't work. The rubbish diet, the 'slim-your-bin' campaign run by the Queen of everything Green, Karen Cannard.
And guess what? Unlike those funny, faddy calorie counting things that fail - it's worked. My 'green' bin (which isn't green at all except for the colour) - the one that goes to landfill - is now approximately half as full as it was when I started.
So what have I done? Well, it's not been rocket science. Thrown less stuff away, I suppose. Ok I've cheated a bit, putting mountains of trash into the neighbours' bins, but still... (Only joking Karen!)
Seriously, I've been amazed at how much difference just a little effort has made. We recycle carriers as bin bags; we're using fewer of them anyway not only because we're generating less waste but because we take our own shopping bags to the supermarket; and I'm composting peelings and the like which - rather surprisingly - otherwise have to go into our landfill bin. But then, Boston doesn't distinguish itself in the rubbish stakes by being bottom of the county recycling league. (I was blissfully unaware of the existence of a recycling league. What a great way to give going green a bit of mass appeal, eh? Presumably we'll soon have teams of fans cheering on the bin men and travelling to away tips for the local dustbin derby in the future.)
I feel I've 'done my bit' as they say (whoever 'they' might be). I've not achieved the zero waste target set for the final week of the challenge, but I've changed some of my rubbish habits and acquired a lovely warm glow of self-righteousness into the bargain. Today - two days before our fortnightly collection - there are just three lonely looking bags of rubbish and plenty of space.
I can actually see the bottom of my wheelie bin. Which is a good thing.
Even if it does mean I can see that it needs cleaning.