When I grew up the only people who recycled were middle-class ex-hippies who drank a lot of wine and ate a lot of jam. We’d go to the bottle bank and I’d relish throwing those glass receptacles as hard as I could.

Residents put their rubbish in a big black plastic bag and left it on the street. I guess the council just buried the whole thing - bag and all.

Blue-peter would have an annual recycling drive - and there was a company called Alucan that would park in the car park of kwik-save and pay 0.5p per can.

Wheelie bins were quite exciting when they arrived. Our doorbell rang once and outside I found a teenager handcuffed to our wheelie bin. I hacksawed him free as he sheepishly said his mates had done it. Probably.

In about 2005 we all started recycling and now I find it amazing that we just trashed everything for years and years.

I’m quite proud that mine is the generation that grew into recycling - everyone younger than me will have grown up with it. I’m sure we’re not there yet, and maybe I’m becoming old, but there’s a satisfaction in having a place for everything and everything in its place.