2. My bin bag
It’s my bin bag again today, my bin bag I filled in the Stone Circle field at 7am this morning. This bag contains many things, some of them educational, some of them things I have learned about before. What would you expect to be in an eve of festival bin bag? Druids robes? Syringes? Michael Eavis comedy beards? Erotic cream? I can reveal that along with hundreds of beer cans, my bag contains dozens of little gas cylinders and deflated balloons, easily the commonest pick up apart from Stella Cidre and Blackthorn. Some of the boxes for said cylinders featured a rather fetching concept image of a lady who looked like she had become unexpectedly naked and leaned over a table at a Tiswas reunion. I learned a new product because of her and her UHT chest, but I haven’t Googled ‘erotic cream’ because I doubt that the results will be as nice as she is. So I have now seen well over 100 bin bags, easily. I also saw a grand total of 3p which had dropped out of people’s pockets – austerity litter. My knowledge of the hierarchy here has expanded too. Everywhere has a hierarchy right? In writing – Nonfiction writers look down on fiction writers who look down on the illiterate who look down on poets. In rehab – heroin addicts look down on alcoholics who look down on dope fiends. Here, everyone looks down on the litter pickers, I did last time from the comfort of my tractor. Even our team leader looks down on us, forcing us to climb a hill for him to take the register at the top of it. He’s called Gonzo, a bolted together Jim Henson puppet and Hunter S Thompson with a literal feather in his cap. I’ve heard no Rolling Stones songs today but I hummed one in my head while sifting paper plates at eight o’clock this morning. I’m off to bed to dream of erotic Sodastreams, they take gas cylinders right?
Ps – it’s raining.
Festival Chronicle 
Just really enjoyed reading that. 🙂
Where is the Fortnum and Mason carrier bag? Rain – ha, what did you expect? Have fun. Kathy xx
If I believe that your categorising of writers is entirely back to front, then i believe that litter pickers and poets are at the top of the heap. And I do. And I also see a likeness between them.
As you categorise writers with poets on the lowest rung and I totally disagree and see poets as writers on the top rung, I must accept that that litter pickers are similarly on that rung (are rungs (one of those words you suddenly see as funny) only ever found on ladders?) and indeed I can see the similarities – poets as litter pickers. Litter pickers as poets. PS I’ve commented on this before but it didn’t seem to ‘take’ so if it is a repeat blame WordPress. Sorry.
Thanks for the comment, Doris. (You have to wait until we ‘approve’ your comment, hence why it didn’t seem to take.)