I sometimes wonder how we manage to put out more bags of rubbish than anyone else in our street.

I mean, how do we produce so much every week? I religiously recycle all the newspapers, glass bottles, tin cans and cardboard.

I cut up old cereal packets into squares to use as shopping lists and memos. We give old clothes to the charity shop. We don't buy processed food. Despite all this, every Monday morning every other house has put out its modest one or two bags, whereas we always seem to have about five or six lined up.

"What on earth is in all these bags?" I asked last week as I hauled bin bags from the back garden to the front gate.

"Rubbish" said daughter helpfully. "I know that, I meant what sort of rubbish?" "Well, one bag has got my blow-up chair in it," said daughter. '

"Why are you throwing your blow-up chair away, I thought you liked it?' I asked in surprise. "I did," replied daughter, "but when Chico (her hamster) escaped the other night she bit a hole in it."

"At least that bag's not heavy to carry," she said, from where she was reclining on the sofa watching MTV while I struggled through the house with bags in each hand.

"That one has got a hole in it," she said helpfully as I went past her again. I looked behind me and saw there was a trail of sweet wrappers.

Obviously despite my buying a very expensive dog-proof bin, Sam had managed to get at this bag.

"Who on earth has eaten 16 Curly Wurlys in one week?" I asked as I put the wrappers into a new bag.

"Aahh, that was me and Dad when we had a sweetie party that night you went out."

"Out!" I said. "I didn't go out, I went to Asda to get the shopping, that's not going out. Anyway 16 Curly Wurlys is a bit excessive isn't it?"

"Well, they were on special offer in the shop round the corner. Dad made me put the wrappers in the bin before you came home."

As they usually leave the remains of their sweetie parties littering the living room, I could only surmise this must have been a massive one to make him feel they had to hide the evidence.

The next bag weighed a ton.

Further investigation showed it contained chopped up bits of recently pruned grape vine and about six old tins of paint.

Him indoors had obviously been clearing the shed out as well as tidying up the garden. In the end I decided that proper household rubbish probably accounted for two bags.

The other four bags were daughter's and husband's. So, if anyone sees me putting out our usual large collection of bags this weekend, I just want you to know it's not me who produces it all.