No.87, Tuesday, 3rd. March 2026
Why would anyone want to read what it is like to be retired and living on a low income in Devon? What is daily life like? How does it change over time and as I age?
It struck me earlier this morning that this diary is set against the background of two key aspects of my life. The first is obvious: location – Devon in south-west Britain. The second perhaps not: a pensioner living on his own on a low income in rented accommodation. Geography and economics – to which we must add the third dimension of history. My ‘morning thoughts’ tend to be shaped by these things, at least in part.
Well, today is somewhat more lively in the suburbs than usual. Dogs are barking because the waste team are about and emptying our bins. One by one my neighbours will be wheeling their bins off the pavements or, in the case of the small recycling bins, carrying them. By noon it will be as if there never was a waste collection. Bin day will be gone until next Monday afternoon when bins will appear on the pavement. The ritual repeats, and perhaps the surprising thing is that this all occurs as if by magic. The bins seem to just materialise, as if beamed there from whichever nearby asteroid they call home. I rarely catch anyone in the act of putting their bins out – or picking them in for that matter.
So there you have it. Bin day in Devon. A weekly event that unites everyone in the cul-de-sac, but which rarely brings us together.
Colin Anderson 