I am lucky enough to live in a fairly sizable semi in West London but my house is now almost completely given over to recycling.
About six months ago, the London borough in which I reside had a complete rush of blood to the head.
They delivered several (seven I think) containers of different sizes and shapes: there's a big blue bag for paper, a big green basket thing for garden waste, a large white sack for plastics, two different sized bins-with-lids for food and the traditional green box for the rest. Oh, and black sacks for "normal weekly collection".
Well it's all very laudable in intent I must say, but have we all gone completely mad?
Every Wednesday morning, four or five refuse trucks of one sort or another get wedged behind each other in my suburban street as they compete to pick up their own particular sort of rubbish.
The plastics collection is fortnightly (and alternates with the garden waste collection) which, alongside the slippage which occurs in a bank holiday week, means you have to have a Prince 2 diploma in project management just to remember what to put out on what day.