How big do they think my wardrobe is? I have never lived anywhere like where I do now (sorry – bad grammar) for begging bags. Three a week, at least, cluttering up the doormat when you get home, ready to make you go skidding across the hallway. And they have the gall, after poking it unsolicited through the letterbox when you’re not at home, to ask you to keep it away from pets and kids.

Here’s the last week’s haul:

I wouldn’t mind if:

1. They weren’t so picky about what you could put in, but while handbags and jewellery are most welcome, bric-a-brac almost always most definitely is not.
2. They were all actually for charities, but they’re not. Some of them are, granted, but plenty of them are for private individuals who then sell the clothes and give some (or none) of the proceeds to charity.
3. They all actually included a bag, but some are so lazy, like the two A5 fliers in that pile, that they want you to use a shopping bag and drop it on the pavement, making your street look like the council tip.
4. We didn’t get six in a week.

I will never use one of these bags. I’d rather make the effort to take my old clothes to the charity shop, and for the other valuables they want you to give so they can sell them on, sell them myself on eBay.

I might one day, just out of spite, put some ‘bric-a-brac’ in one and see what happens.

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