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On Monday night I dreamt of a Fastasia like extravaganza with wheelie bins marching in procession, shuffling along a giant arch, singing in a low, monotone voice, by opening and closing their lids. Streams of water flowing up and around them against a navy blue, cartoon like, background.
"Wheelie bins...dun dun dun, wheelie bins...dun, dun dun, wheelie bins...dun, dun, dun"
On Tuesday morning I took another stroll down to the allotment before work. Fortunately I was able to gain access as a keen gardener had already arrived and left the gate open. Making my way inside I started looking around for any signs of rogue recycling bins but was almost immediately disturbed by someone poking their head over an old fence, further up into the allotment, beadily eyeing me suspiciously. Realising this had to be the chap who left the gate open, I made my way up to him, greeting him a cheery good morning. Now, I don't know why I did this but instead of telling the true reasons as to why I was sneaking around an allotment I was suddenly telling the man how I was a keen gardener and was interested in obtaning one of the plots of land. He told me a Councillor named Jim Fowler was the person to talk to (not Arfur). So I asked my new found fellow horticulturist if I could I have a quick walk around the allotment, to which he hesitantly agreed and I had a good look about only finding one clean, blue bin. No sign of all the other numbered bins that had been nicked from us out in the street. As I walked back down towards the gate to leave, the same gardener stepped out infront of me and offered to walk me out. His suspicions must have been raised somehow and my own suspicions settled. The bin thieving was not an allotment operation.
Once again, the robbers struck last night. Being at work I managed to get the low down from Ka on my return. A couple of guys in hoods had managed to get one of our bins from inside our close and another from one of the other blocks. The hoods then disappeared into the trees at the same dead end of the street that leads into the entrance to the allotment and the depths of Calderglen Park. Approximately five minutes later a fire engine roared down the street and, sure enough, skidded to a halt at the dead end, it's incumbents jumping out and getting to work. Ka and Chris (who was visiting for a coffee at the time) questioned one of the firemen to see if there was any sign of the wheelie bins but the fireman only gave a short, irritable response and got on with his work. Unfortunately it must be the same old story. Neds. The hoodies are nicking our recycling and burning them along with the wheelie bins. Why? What kind of deprived, boring lives must these guys lead to find this kind of behaviour entertaining? Even at a young age what do these guys find appealing about nicking peoples wheelie bins. Perhaps we should be grateful it is only the wheelie bins and nothing more... but then maybe that is just a matter of time.
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