Morning Mayhem

First posted January 2010 

The water board are replacing the storm drain in our street.  This means digging a trench 8ft deep, 3ft with and anything between 6 and 12ft long.  They started at the main road end in September and reached our house just before Christmas.  They are digging, doing the work, backfilling and replacing the tarmac as they go.  So this hole and surrounding cage gradually works its way along the street.  The workmen are friendly, thoughtful and helpful and to be honest disruption has been kept to a minimum.  Apart from understandable parking problems there has been no real disruption.  Except on bin day …

The garbage truck and recycling truck normally go along the street picking up and dropping off the various bins as they go.  However with a great big trench and cage in the way they’ve taken to backing up as far as they can and then the men bring and return each bin to and from the wagon.  Our bin wagons arrive at about 8, at about the same time as the boy’s taxis and just when they start work on the hole.  Last bin day was cacophonous.

First the men came to the hole and opened its cage:  rattle, clash.

Then the caterpillar tracked JCB digger came along:  grind, clash, rattle with continuous boggler-boggler of the diesel engine.

The tipper lorry that takes the dug up earth away backed up to the digger:  brum-brum, rattle beep-beep-beep and continuous rumble of engine.

The little dumper truck full of yellow stuff trundled up and sat grumbling companionably next to it.

Number One son’s taxi arrived and left.

Then the garbage truck backed up; beep-beep-beep, clash, rumbling engine. 

All the two dozen or so waste bins from the whole street were trundled thunderously to the wagon.  There was the grind and roar of the lifting and tipping gear and they were even more thunderously trundled empty back.   

The garbage truck left.

Number Two’s taxi came and went.

Finally the recycling wagon reversed up:  beep-beep-beep, continuously rumbling engine.

All the two dozen recycling bins were thunderously trundled to the wagon, this time with tiny tinkles from the bottle canisters.  There was the grind and roar of the lifting gear; accompanied by a cascade of clashing as the glass canisters were emptied into their bit.  I must say we seem to use a lot of glass in this street.

At about quarter past eight the bin wagons had done their bit and the work vehicles turned off their engines and here was a moment of blessed silence.

Then they turned on the electric saw and started cutting through the asphalt.

Fester normally rises at 8.30.

He told me that even turning Radio 3 up really loud couldn’t cover the cacophony.

Having risen before 7 to get the boys up for school my sympathy flowed like putty.