As the nation unwraps mountains of Easter eggs this weekend, it’s interesting to contemplate whether we’ll see a reduction in the amount of packaging clucked out - sorry chucked out – for recycling.
Last year they accounted for an incredible 3,000 tons of waste, much of which was unsuitable for recycling – all the more disgraceful since less than half of this modern day kiddie-con-trick is actually edible.
The good news is that major egg layers – sorry players – have cut their packaging this year, even if it’s hard to tell from the supermarket shelves.
Nestle, with 25 per cent share of the market, is the first to make all its packaging 100 per cent recyclable. Good news – although if recent reports are true that millions of tons of rubbish carefully sorted by caring consumers have ended up as landfill, it might just as well not have bothered!
So where do Easter eggs feature among religious beliefs? Where do coloured eggs, cute little bunny rabbits and chirpy chicks come from? Not to mention florists’ higher prices and leg of lamb lunches.
It’s apparently part of the spring cycle. The growing season of sunshine and new birth it says here - when Earth renews itself after a long hard winter. Well I’ve got news for you. Someone’s clock is well and truly out of order!
A pagan goddess called Eostre lays claim to the origin of the name and cute little bunnies? Well we all know what they get up to, so I suppose it’s not surprising there are so many. As for the chicks? That must be to kid us it’s all cheep, cheep, cheep!
‘Tis said ancient civilisations thought the world was an enormous egg (hard-boiled presumably), so it became the symbol for new life. How eggciting!
The mediaeval art of egg rolling persists in some parts of the country apparently – they really should get out more!
But I am intrigued by another ancient practice akin to conkers where opponents tapped eggs together to see whose nerve cracked first, if you see what I mean. Presumably this is where the phrase “egging on” came from and it’s a pity this fascinating pastime no longer exists.
If the recent parliamentary Budget debate had fallen in Easter week, think how entertaining the heated exchanges across the chamber on Budget day would have been.
Instead of childish howls of derision and abuse hurled at the Chancellor, back benchers on both sides of the chamber could have egged each other on with red yellow and blue missiles, supplied courtesy of Edwina Currie.
At least this would have added an element of skill and competitiveness to the proceedings and viewers would have been reassured this was indeed reality television at its best.
I don’t know about losing our credit rating, but our credibility rating must now be zero judging by their performance!
When are our addled politicians going to start behaving like grown-ups and get cracking on sorting out the mess?