Maxine

Environmental journalist and editor, specialising in waste and resource management - how to steer the nation's junk away from landfill and turn it into a valuable commodity. When not talking rubbish, can be found walking up mountains. Lover of waterproof clothing, puddles, overcast skies and teapots.

if it’s rotten enough, i’ll care

I love old stuff.

You know, flaky paint. Falling down letters. Bashed-up brickwork.

Boat houses that stand idle, majestic in their neglect.

In the general scheme of things, reuse gets a bad deal in this world. People get recycling, they get landfill even, but reuse – nah.

It’s up there; straight in at number two if you study the waste hierarchy. If you’re a waste geek like me.

But not many people are.

And so old stuff, like this stranded lifeboat house, its sense of purpose has been consigned to faded memories. Probably of fishermen and sea rescue teams.

It really deserves a new lick of paint.

But it is more likely to get demolished and consequently, it’ll slide down the waste rankings to number four, recovery, or even number five, disposal.

Big shame.

But I love it nonetheless.

I just hope it hangs around long enough for more of us to care.

Meta

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Wednesday, 2nd November, 2011

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go get those bluebells while you can

Where I work it may not be the best office. It sits above an Aldi, for a start. I work in new media, but there is nothing new about this office. It really has had its day.

But I hope it stays put. And that I stay put within it. For just across the road – literally a stone’s throw – hides a little woodland. During my lunch breaks, I can sometimes be found hiding within it.

It is a world away. And it forever surprises.

Last friday among the trees, I kid you not, I saw a wildcat. It was a fleeting-never-forget-type moment. And today, out of nowhere, bluebells – zillions of them. And the great thing about woodland is that no-one tells you that you can’t walk on the grass.

Sometimes it’s not about the glamour. It’s about the little things, like finding space and solace in the same spot. Stealing some time for yourself in amongst those team meetings and deadlines. So go get those bluebells while you can.

 

 

 

Meta

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Monday, 11th April, 2011

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last of the landfills (get in quick)

Yesterday I visited a landfill site. It is one of around 300 landfills left in England and Wales. It probably isn’t most people’s idea of a nice day out. But you’ll get to see a lot of birds in majestic flight, and the smell of rotting rubbish being flattened and buried isn’t as bad as you might think. The best thing though is your jaw will drop. Because to see all this waste up close and personal is truly a sight to behold.

These 300 landfills won’t be around forever, which is a good thing. As they get full up, they will get restored and turned into nature reserves or golf courses. And they won’t be opening any more new ones, at least not in England and Wales. Instead the waste we produce, if not reused or recycled, will be treated and transformed into energy, to power our national infrastructure – our homes, schools, and businesses.

So visit one of these dumping grounds while you still can. Nowhere else will you find a place that will make you think so much about what you consume and what you throw away.

Meta

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Saturday, 26th February, 2011

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it takes six seconds to fall

I went to Beachy Head today.

What is Beachy Head famous for?

Suicides.

Marathons.

Chalk.

Multiple ice cream vans.

Two lighthouses, Belle Tout on the cliff top just along a bit, and one in the sea.

(Belle Tout they keep having to move further back from the edge as the cliff is eroding)

Wind. The kind that rips your face off.

(I’ve now got the ruddiest cheeks ever)

And if you dare to look over the edge, it is a sheer 550 foot drop.

But mind how you go.

It takes six seconds to fall.

It would probably feel like an eternity.

Stay safe, and you’re laughing.

Because it takes your breath away. Not just the view, but the sheer beauty of sea below crashing into rock, and the cry of gulls as they swoop to meet the gales.

Yup, it’s a tonic for the soul.

Like you’re standing at the edge of the world.

Meta

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Sunday, 13th February, 2011

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Friday, 4th February, 2011

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horses lend us the wings we lack

To run a good business, you need to be a good leader. But good leadership skills are in short supply – we might get promoted at work, but we often aren’t taught how to climb that ladder properly. And the top can be a wobbly place if you look down.

I got put through some management training last year, six workshops in all. It was interesting enough, but I soon forgot most of it once I was back in the office, squeezed by deadlines and demands. This month however I went on a different type of training day – a horse-assisted learning one. It was a real journey of self-discovery. And I didn’t forget any of it.

Whereas conventional techniques are often based on textbook theory, horse-assisted learning (HAL) takes you out of that classroom comfort zone and puts you up close and personal with a horse. Whether or not you feel you have a natural affinity with horses doesn’t matter – the horse is there to teach you about yourself through how you communicate with it.

The day was spent at a small farm in Hertfordshire. There is no riding involved, it is about instructing the horse to perform various tasks centred around leadership, trust and team building. Most of the exercises we did with the two horses involved getting them to walk round a series of obstacles, either one-on-one, in pairs or as a team.

This isn’t as simple as it sounds. We were allowed to lead the horses at liberty or by a soft rope bridle, but with no force or aggression. If they didn’t wish to follow, or wanted to walk off in a different direction, we had to figure out how to handle that on the spot and change our management style accordingly.

Because interaction with the animals is based predominantly on non-verbal behaviour, it is not so much what you say, but how you tune into a horse’s space. They are highly intuitive and can sense if you feel comfortable and confident around them. Whatever you’re feeling they will mirror that – you can’t hide your inner emotions from a horse. They will judge you as you are, in that moment.

Of course this can be quite disconcerting, especially if you hold out your hand to greet a horse and it turns its head away from you. You might feel upset or rejected – you might feel the horse has a problem with you. But it’s often the other way round; you have to learn to challenge your own preconceptions and deal with any negative emotions. Put simply – you have to find a way to change your behaviour and learn how to get along with the horse.

As well as being hands-on with the horses, we were also encouraged to watch each other interacting with them to see what leadership styles worked and what didn’t. This proved invaluable as effectively the group ends up teaching each other in a very tangible way.

Ultimately horse-assisted training is a journey of introspection. To improve your relationships with others you must first look inside and improve yourself. It doesn’t over-complicate, over-analyse or bombard you with management-style jargon. In a highly practical environment, the horse strips all that away, leaving you to tap into your own instincts to find the best way forward – one that suits you both.

At the end of the day I left with a real sense of pride yet deeply reflective, humbled even. I felt I had really accomplished something, not just how to handle a horse when presented with a particular task or challenge, but how to handle myself.

The HAL taster day I attended was organised by Workscales www.workscales.co.uk

To find out more about horse-assisted learning, check out www.eahae.org

Meta

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Saturday, 29th January, 2011

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when plastic isn’t so fantastic

I went to the Isle of Skye last year. While there, I discovered a beautiful spot, Talisker Bay. It was a perfect place to stop for a tea break and take some pictures.

My favourite picture I took that day was of a beaten-up fisherman’s plastic box which had been washed up on the shore. It had travelled all the way from the west coast of Ireland to the west coast of Scotland, ducking and diving through the salty waters of the north atlantic ocean. Imagine that.

As I took the photo, I wondered how long it had spent in the water. It looked pretty battered. It was incomplete, broken.

The more I studied my find, the more reflective I got. I thought about the pollutants in our seas. The waves coughing up bits of plastic, just like this box, as they break upon the shore. Beach litter is at its highest level since records began. In particular, the plastic we find on our on shores has increased 146% since 1994. I then thought of the birds: over 90% of fulmars found dead around the north sea have plastic in their stomachs.

I realised that this fisherman’s box, charming though it was, is part of that sorry tale.

Meta

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Wednesday, 26th January, 2011

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