Judith Lacy's Jottings: Would the Wombles be impressed with Mihaere Dr one year on?

Some of the more unusual items I found along Mihaere Drive in Kelvin Grove on Sunday. Photo / Judith Lacy

OPINION:

"What do you need a bong for?" a friend of 20 years asked me.

How would Madame Cholet respond?

"I don't need the bong, I found it," I replied, slightly indignantly. I had to get a colleague to confirm it was even a bong and asked her what drug one would use it for.

So now I am in possession of a bong - definitely not the type Princess Eleanor used in The Royals, an empty strawberry watermelon vape juice container, and what we think is a sheep bone.

I've already filled one green rubbish bag and my dish drainer is overflowing with bottles and cans I've been able to wash.

It's a year since I walked up and down Mihaere Drive in Kelvin Grove picking up rubbish, so I decided to repeat the exercise. This time the weather was better and there was less rubbish, especially plastic wrapping, which I attribute to there being one fewer food distribution warehouse on the road.

I also don't remember any birds chirping last year, perhaps Great Uncle Bulgaria had rounded up the birds of Wimbledon burrow in my honour.

There was also less takeaway packaging, though the first things I came across were three pizza boxes. Once again the worst offenders were beer and energy drinks, or should I say the consumers of these products. Two empty beer bottles and a can were sitting in a neat pile on a green verge. Weird. I did find an empty bottle of 100 per cent pure New Zealand apple juice.

The saddest thing is many of the containers that could normally be recycled are so damaged and dirty, I can't clean them satisfactorily to put them into my orange-topped bin.

I found quite a collection of unopened Lemsip sachets and, of course, masks galore.

As I bent, picked, puffed and noted, I realised I was becoming the opposite of a pest trapper. I was getting excited at empty stormwater grates. Rubbish-free grates became a thing of beauty and I counted six. You don't realise how many grates there are in a street until you start looking for them.

I was going for my seventh when I spotted what I thought was plastic wrapped around a bar. It turned out to be one of those posh doggie doo bags with dog prints on it. Cute, yes, but I can only assume what was inside was nothing but. This discovery and my gloves leaking from overwork were definitely the low points of my wombling.

As with last year, I didn't pick up anything that I thought could be unsafe, was too big to carry, organic, or cigarette butts, and I didn't go on private property.

I learned the Waikanae Health Centre is on someone's route 6, driver Scott was taking 35kg of steel to a Roy St address, and Deane has lost their name badge.

This time I carried two bags and left the first at the end of the road with a note on it saying I'd be back to collect it soon. When I returned it was still there.

What disturbed me the most, however, wasn't the rubbish but the motorcyclist who was going well above the speed limit and passing cars; on a Sunday afternoon no less. The speed was so excessive I felt the vibrations on the opposite side of the road.

I'd much rather have The Wombling Song in my ears.

People don't notice us, they never see
Under their noses a Womble may be
Womble by night and we Womble by day
Looking for litter to trundle away