Poor Metal dustbin. Oh I miss mine so much! It's lid made such a merry noise at 2 am as it rolled down the road in the high wind. And you could lift it and swing it on your back like the bin-collecting men did. Onehanded.. Dear Tin Bin. Now I have a pea green thing with a lid that falls on my head, and I nearly fall inside it's cavernous interior.

Darling story about my lovely lovely Tin Bin. Thank you, you magic man, with your manic mind.