.... random rants and rambles. no agenda. yet.

What would I say if you asked me if I'd spent all weekend traipsing around a field in the mud, voluntarily picking up rubbish and recycling other people's alcohol-related debris at a camping festival that I'm not even camping at, because they don't allow dogs, and also because we're kind of running a cat B&B at the moment (which is a whole other story for another day)?

I'd say yes. And I'd add that 10am is a particularly horrible time to have stale beer all over your hands.

Heh. It's actually fun, believe it or not, mostly because of the obvious environmental benefits, but also because it's quite a sociable job and C and I have both met loads of lovely people - and nagged them about recycling, of course.

It's also really disgusting. Who knew that baked bean flavour baby food could make so much mess? And also who DIDN'T know that sanitary towels can't be recycled?! Oh, and if the two men who peed drunkenly in the plastics bin outside the main marquee ever tell me it was them, they will live to regret it*. Nuff said!

The weirdest thing we've found so far has to be the pair of gentleman's suit shoes which were placed neatly at the bottom of one of the bins soon after the festival started. All very mysterious!

So. More mud and beer cans beckon tomorrow... just please, no more wee*.

* And yes, I know that was probably all Too Much Information, but, umm, how else am I meant to process such weirdness?