Bin Day

Today is rubbish day at the big house. Steve takes all the rubbish and puts it in the appropriate bins and pats himself on the back for filling up the general waste one with the grass clippings yesterday so there is no space wasted. And then along come the trucks at different times and one bloke from the airconditioned confines of his truck cabin, pushes a button and the mechanical arm thing picks up the bin and tosses all the shit into the back of the truck where it is compressed into a sanitary little parcel. How very easy for him/her.

It reminded me of the yarn I told Ziggy this week which I am not at all sure he believed. He is curious about how things were different when I was a girl. No I am not offended when he asks this like it might be possible that I am gonna tell him I had a dinosaur for a pet or that I was around before the invention of fire. Mostly I tell him things weren't that much different, but this week I remembered that my Nanna, sweet woman she was, used to have an outside dunny.

I told him that there was a little room built out in the garden and that was the LOO. I told him that there was no flushing of this loo, instead you had to sprinkle saw dust ontop of your wees and poos and that all the shit stayed stinking in the tin and that the tin was changed over every week by the dunny man who would nonchalantly throw the full bin on his shoulder and run, tipping a little excess down his back and onto the grass on his was back to his truck.

Well finally here was a story that impressed!

Zig's reaction, after careful consideration was to suppose that the dunny man must have been very rich cos he was doing a job no one else wanted to do. He was amazed to hear that was not the case.

I wonder if we used Zig's theory of wages who would be best paid today.