In a muck again

"Look at the state of my wife's legs!"

Leaving you to dwell on those legs, HG turns his attentions to the wall the builders are rebuilding at the back of the house, with Bools in tow.

I, meanwhile, carry on getting in a muck. No, I am not growing leaves. Mould perhaps, due to camping conditions. But I have not, as yet, started sprouting green stuff. This muckiness is due to the project of the afternoon, which was strimming out front. With a safety visor on to protect my eyes of course, which is a devilish thing to have to wear as it is too big for me and keeps slipping about as I strim.



Things I have learnt today. That it is best to wear trousers to cover up one's legs when strimming, as the bits of green stuff tend to stick to the skin like glue as they dry and make the skin itch. That it is perfectly OK to say sorry to the several poppies which were inadvertantly decapitated because the safety visor considerably reduced my vision. Also to the hedge rose, which has now lost one branch. And also to the baby silver birch tree which I decapitated, but HG said it would grow again but will look forever stunted. He was not so calm about the three inch gash I sliced in the bark of one his fruit trees. As a result he has now banned me from going anywhere near his trees.

So, carrying on with 'things I have learnt today': That HG is only trying to preserve our future fruit harvest when he is instructing me as to where to strim only gashes in the bark of a tree tend to weaken it perhaps even to make it firewood fodder. That using arm swings to the count of fifty, and then changing arms, keeps the momentum flowing: this for both jog-walking and strimming. That it is better to walk forward when strimming, rather than backwards as this will reduce any tendency to fall backwards into a waiting pot hole. That if one does, not to worry as one can use the strimmer to get oneself back on one's feet quite quickly by using it as a walking stick. Of course it is better to switch it off, as the strimmer can do all sorts of interesting things when it's head is jammed into the ground. This may be the reason why HG feels the need to check up on me when I am using the strimmer. That after the bonhommie misfire of yesterday, it was nice to wave to the Swiss lady and the Swiss man as the drove past very slowly this afternoon, on their way home to their house in Geneva which is not by the lake but in the middle of the city slap bang up against a tall block of a building which is over one kilometer wide. That it was nice to wave them off with a smile as they went on their way. That I am glad we are here and not having to leave to go home, because we are home already.