Travelling on French public transport, it’s obvious who is most respected in society. War veterans are top dogs; if all seats are taken and an old soldier gets on the bus or train, people automatically shift. Then come people with disabilities; the bog-standard elderly; and, finally, those foolish enough to have saddled themselves with children. It’s a fair system and it works.

Lothian Buses, my local bus company, has no policy of deferring to war veterans, but its pecking order is equally plain: wheelchairs win every time. If a pram or buggy is in the wheelchair spot, they must behave like any graceful loser in the top trumps of transportation, and fold.

It’s reasonable. Wheelchair users haven’t chosen their disability; parents have. People with brats should always give way to those with genuine problems.

Prams, and their foldability, are my specialist subject. I’m used to making the tedious decision of either waking up the baby and folding the pram, or just letting the bus go past and waiting for the next one. To fold, or not to fold — the dilemma of modern parenting. But I’ve never disputed that wheelchairs come first.

Unfortunately for pram-pushers, Lothian Buses has tightened its rules. Invoking the Disability Discrimination Act, it has banned non-foldable prams, to ensure there’s always a guaranteed wheelchair space, but many mothers with babes under six months (who shouldn’t travel in foldable buggies) think it’s unfair.

It’s a shame that Lothian Buses can’t give new mothers the option of simply getting off the bus if a wheelchair user needs to get on but, to be honest, I welcome a hard line in such matters. Once they have a baby, some people seem to think the world revolves around them and nobody else deserves any consideration, so here are a few of my suggestions regarding bus etiquette:

1) Wheelchair beats all. No quibbling.

2) Children under six months should be carried in slings.

3) Pre-toddlers beat toddlers. If your kid can walk, make it.

4) If you get on a double-decker, then proceed to leave your unfolded pram downstairs in the sole designated space, while you all scamper upstairs so Junior can sit at the front, you should be sterilised. No quibbling allowed.

Here’s a question for the gardeners of Stirling: Which one of these items is not organic? A) Grass; B) Leaves; C) A strimmer?

I only ask because there seems to be some confusion among Stirling’s green-fingered citizens over what can and cannot be dumped in the council’s garden waste recycling bins.

It had all seemed like such a good idea. Everybody would put their garden waste in the brown bins, the council would take it away and turn it into compost, then redistribute it. Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that some people had a loose understanding of the term “garden waste” and were filling bins with everything from plastic plant pots to duvets, bottles to carpets.

Well, I suppose if these things were going to waste in gardens, technically that makes them “garden waste”. So it’s lucky the council didn’t find more rusting cars, sheds, trampolines, scythes and swingball sets.

In future, maybe the council should stop labelling the bins “garden waste” and be more specific. “Stuff that makes compost” might help.

But Stirling’s problem highlights how difficult it can be to do the right thing when disposing of rubbish. Which bin to put it in? It can be a real conundrum, can’t it? For instance, one bin says “paper”, another says “packaging”. You have old Christmas cards — but where to put them? They’re card, which is usually packaging, but they’re not packaging. So what to do?

I’ve found a browse of the internet can help enormously if you find yourself confused about how to be a green citizen. If you really can’t decide which colour-coded bin is the right one to put your rubbish in, stop worrying and just put the stuff on Ebay.

Fat Scots could be about to get a little helping hand from the taxpayer. Professor Annie Anderson, of Dundee University’s Centre for Public Health Nutrition Research, advises Holyrood on anti-obesity strategies and her latest idea is to give chubby people various incentives to slim down.

These enticements could include things like gym memberships, holidays — presumably to get the recipients as far away from the larder as possible — and good old, straightforward cash.

I’m thinking that it would be cheaper for everybody if we just bought them fridge locks and put the keys at the end of a long assault course.

Alternatively, why not make food more expensive? Oh, sorry, I forgot, we’re already doing that.

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