It was dustbin day today.

Every Tuesday night I try very hard to remember to put the full binsack (we are given one F.O.C. by our beloved Council) outside the back gate to be removed (almost silently) by 7am on Wednesday. I also have to remember, every fortnight, to put the newspaper box and the box for glass, cans and textiles on the pavement for (noisy) collection. I would make all of this Ned's responsibility, but he has devised the excuse of being at work on Tuesday night, so try as I might to lay the blame on him, this is not his fault. There. I've said it.

I was tired last night. Stone cold sober, but tired. So I had an early night, having chatted about Maris's jammy left breast needing a good boil-wash and tumble. And possible starching to regain its former texture. So I forgot to put the binsack outside the gate.

Now in many areas, this would simply result in my rubbish having to wait till next week for collection. Not here. The dustmen have instructions to enter premises to remove black sacks of rubbish, and this is what they did. With many households, this would be a godsend, because then they could have as many early nights as they want without worrying about their rubbish. However our dustmen seem to have an inability to close the gate behind them. This has been a problem in the past, so I have a lovely sign saying

KEEP GATE SHUT
Dogs loose

which I would have thought summed up the situation fairly well.

As soon as the alarm went off I went downstairs, opened the back door for the dogs, and went back upstairs to get dressed. No sooner had I started this when I heard a bark from outside. Outside the front. Looking out of the window I saw, to my horror, two of my dogs playing with the traffic. I think I broke all records getting downstairs and out the front to try to bring them in before total disaster struck.

I stopped the traffic. Mainly because I suddenly realised I was only wearing a teeshirt. Remind me to apologise to the neighbours sometime. Just not yet.