I DO so wish my recycling wheelie bin would take a hint from R Russell Smith’s “exemplary trio” (Letters, December 4th.) Earlier this year I managed to drop my car keys into the bin as I put several copies of The Herald in, ready for collection the following day. I tried to gently tip the bin over but was not strong, so I pushed it over, crawled inside and retrieved the keys, but then my elderly legs gave way and I ended up lying full-length inside the bin.

It is not easy trying to kneel up again inside a shiny-sided wheelie bin, as I tried to do a reversing manouevre. I lay there for a while and hoped that someone would pass by and drag me out. But it was Sunday and very quiet.

So I did the only thing and had a damn-good swear, licked my hands to wet them, and pushed my way, inch by inch, out backwards with great difficulty. Unlike R Russell Smith’s bins, which only behave disgracefully when obstructing his car’s gateway, my bin seems to delight in swallowing things that I never intended it to ingest.

Thelma Edwards,

Old Comrades Hall, Hume, Kelso.