Yesterday we gave a hand at the clearing of the tip. It was once a house, rather a nice little one on a neighboring farm, but the bloke who was living there had reduced it to a place where even flies battered themselves to death trying to escape. It was upsetting not only for filth and stench and abysmal hygenic standards, but also for the wastage (which REALLY offends every ounce of my Calvinist soul). Obviously considerable money flowed into the house, and though tens of thousands were wasted on booze and drugs, it was also wasted in every direction - there must have been 10 good pen-knives under the piles of dropped dirty clothing (some rat-eaten and rotting) and discarded plates and half-eaten food. A fridge that had got too filthy even for this... lifeform wasn't cleaned out, or even thrown out. It was just closed and left running, and he got another. The stench was really unbelievable. There were dead rats, rotten potatoes (on the same shelf as new food had been put!) and used condoms on the floor (one has to wonder what kind of girl would get that close!). It was the sort of thing I imagined with heroin addicts in the grungy inner city, not out in our beautiful country.
It took spades, rakes and strong stomachs to clean it out. As commendation to giving your head to the local weed... NOT.