Coffee and tip. Actually tip and hot chocolate. I love going to the tip, or as it is officially known, the centre of the universe. Long have I lobbed unwanted and broken items with reckless abandon into the assembled skips. Long have I watched the goings on of the tip attendees. Smart cars worth thousands of pounds rammed with junk, filling their interiors with detritus, smells and in the worst cases mud and muck. I love watching people pull up and open their boot, revealing that Pandora's Box like contents of the underworld. Sometimes the boot lid opens and there's a package no bigger than a cornflake package. Double wrapped in newspaper, it is ceremoniously taken to its finest resting place, carried with care be a be-gloved owner. All life is visible in the tip. Today though it was just garden waste for me, accumulated over two months as the autumn laid waste to this or that part of the summer border. 7 bags of feculent vegetation disposed of, it was a visit to Cleeve Nursery to follow. Cleeve has recently changed hands, Alan Down the doyens of the horticultural trades has retired. Changing times, but they still do a nice warming hot chocolate in the newly revamped cafe.
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