The Festival Season. The Rubbish Piles Up and Billy Goat Saves the Day

Yes. It’s festival season again. Everywhere in this green and peasant land, new bands, pop bands, DJs and everyone else that can bang a tambourine is out or about to be out doing the festivals. Even old bands that should have stayed broken up have reformed, often with at least one new member who could pass for their Grandchild on account of the bass player not being around any more or the drummer having exploded, and gone out to entertain their 60 year old fans with a medley of their hit.

And in village and town squares across the nation, we are starting to do a similar thing. Craft Fairs spring up, brimming with artisans selling  expensive jewellery made of  sustainable wood from Malasia, stalls of old cigarette cards made into ‘leave your own message’ greetings cards and  clothing that is described as ‘vintage’ that you were actually wearing what seemed like ten minutes ago. Meanwhile local brass bands with a cornet player who is almost good, play ‘The Great Escape’ and a jaunty version of Pharrell Williams’s ‘Happy’, while kids run around knocking each other over and slightly merry Dads in straw hats stagger  round in cargo shorts drinking craft beers at £4.50 a pop.

"Now... where's my tent? I know I left it here somewhere. "
“Now… where’s my tent? I know I pitched here somewhere.”

Now I love a good local festival as much as the next girl. As long as there are people to meet, something bubbly to drink and sunshine I am fine. But the morning after? Oh dear. Rubbish. The detritus left after any kind of a festival, be it Glastonbury or the local arts bash, can be as depressing as the festival was fun. The day after ours I was left wondering who would actually take responsibility for the lolly-sticks on the green and the cider tins left in various bushes. Well, I needn’t have worried. I’m walking towards the square, dreading what I will find, swearing to do a bit of picking up myself, out comes my friend Jonty, a vision in white linen, shooting out of his gateway with a fabulous looking machine that I later find is called a Billy Goat MV650H Multi-Vac Outdoor Vacuum. Jonty works for some high-powered local family and apparently he’s borrowed this thing ‘cos it’s a serious clean up machine and, like me, he’s tired of the rubbish piling up and the the not so much turning a ‘blind eye’, but turning a ‘can’t be bothered backside’ attitude some people have to the issue.  Anyway, this BG sweeper it turns out to be pretty amazing. One swing round the fountain in the square and Jonty’s picked up broken glass, burger wrappers,  sweet wrappers, twigs, leaves and so on and disposed of the lot.

I have to say I was heartily impressed and, on chatting to my friend Drew, discovered there are a whole selection of these type of machines on our website so, I say unto thee, if you are having a garden party, a festival, a wedding do  or any some-such frivolities over the summer, you could do worse than take a look at these brutes.

I mean, not only can these machines pick up and shred clippings and leaves and acorns but some of them can also shred paper, card, paper cups, cans and even bottles. And if you can’t get hold of one of these for any reason, here’s some advice. Pick it up and take it home. We don’t want to look at it. Now, I’m off to prepare for the weekend and another festival. Now where is my face-paint.  See ya. Holly.

 

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