I have quite a lot of ground round the house. Once upon a time - as old folk walking past my garden have mentioned rather too frequently to be a subtle hint - the ground around my house was apparently one of the best kept gardens in the village. (Much use of the past tense there.) Well, hey - I work full time, I have kids, I have a social life - and the garden tends to suffer somewhat. These days, so long as I can keep it vaguely respectable I am happy.
Last weekend I realised that 'something' had to be done garden wise. I decided the fastest results would be achievable with the strimmer. In I waded, 18 inches deep in long grass, waving the strimmer left and right,back and forth - if not exactly with enthusiasm, with at least a degree of determination.
"What the fuck???"
The case in which the strimmer cord was contained had split in two. My strimming was over less than 15 minutes after it had commenced. I decided that gardening that day was 'not to be' and went to the pub instead.
The following day I went to Homebase, clutching my broken strimmer cord case. "Do you " I asked a man whose badge assured me he was 'There to help me', "sell replacement parts for strimmers?" Helpful Man shook his head and told me I may be able to order one but it was likely to be so pricey I would be better off getting a new one. "Sod it" thinks I, whilst thanking him politely for his help. But no way could I get a new strimmer that day as I had in fact to get my first ever hedge trimmer. For the past many years I have always borrowed my next door neighbour's hedge trimmer but the selfish sod has moved. (Maybe he moved as he was so sick of the next door neighbour continually scrounging the use of his hedge trimmer? I hadn't thought of that possibility until just now.)
I get home with my brand new hedge trimmer and set about the hedge with that kind of thrill that you get from trying something new out - which never lasts that many minutes. Only in my case the thrill never had the chance to diminish. The hedge trimmer mysteriously stopped less than half an hour after I plugged it in. "Hummm." Plug still pushed into extension lead? Check. Extension lead plug still pushed into the socket? Check. Then what on earth could have gone wrong? Obvious answer was that I had gone right through the electric cable. Sod it. Clearly gardening that day was 'not to be ' either, so I opened a bottle of wine instead.
The following day I popped into a specialist lawn mower shop just on the off chance I might be able to get a replacement part for the strimmer. The guy who wore no badge at all to assure me he was 'there to help me', said he could order it for me. "How much is that going to cost me?" I asked with a sense of foreboding. "£2.35" he replied. It has duly been ordered.
But although it may sound a little tiny bit as though I am rather a rubbish gardener, I do take pride in knowing that I am nurturing plant growth, and in some cases, with quite spectacular success. I bring you for your delight, my prize winning pot dandelion.....
The Hamilton Hacker - Nice wee bit of sly humour from the April 1937 issue of the *Socialist Standard*.
12 hours ago