Lemons and limes
I buy lemons and limes with good intentions.
Lemon drizzle cake and pancakes, and gin with a slice of lime, and marinades; I plan to use every scrap, to waste nothing.
We have a two food waste bins, provided by the council. They are like Me and Mini Me.
Me is small pedal-bin sized and sits outside with the wheelie bins. We have a blue wheelie for recycling, two brown ones for garden waste, and, because the council want everyone to send less to landfill, they have replaced our normal sized grey bin for everything else with a new slimmed down model with a third of the capacity. I approve.
The thing is, we almost never use the Me bin. Mini Me (about the size of a bathroom bin), sits under the sink and we use it as a compost bin. I was astonished to discover recently that the paper in teabags is 20% plastic, but at the moment I'm still composting them, along with every other bit of peeling and coring. We aren't vegetarian, but we just don't generate food waste for the bigger Me bin. There is the occasional bone, or perhaps a chicken carcass, but that's about it. The dog gets fish skin as a treat, and everything else is eaten. I'm sure that if the council actually track this sort of stuff, we have a big black mark beside our house number.
So I am slightly ashamed to reveal that wizened citrus fruit is probably my guilty secret in the waste department.
Occasionally, I decide that the yellow or green solid lump in the fridge is beyond saving, They are too rock hard to slice up and put in the compost bin, so in the winter, I chuck the hard-as-as-cricketball object into the wood stove and close the door.
Reader, do not do as I do.
Yesterday I dispatched a solid lump that had once been a juicy lime (I know, i know) into the back of the already lit stove. I've done it before without any problems. Half an our later I opened the stove door and gave the ashes a poke before putting more wood on.
I was hit in the chest by an explosion of not-so-dried-up-after-all lime innards.
Wood ash covered my face, my hair, my hands and my arms.. Fortunately a barrage of glowing embers missed me somehow and landed on the floor.
This is my T shirt.
It's in the washing machine. I'm not sure it has survived.