Saturday, October 1


Went mad yesterday, mowing, feeding, weeding, pruning and shearing. Had to put my clothes on at the end, to trim the hedge beside the neighbour's living room. Probably just as well anyway, on safety grounds.

Managed to reactivate an old shoulder injury with the shears.

In the night I heard the possum on the roof pause at the edge, as it realised that its favourite landing zone of tree branches had disappeared.

One year, just after pruning, I heard a possum jump off the roof into where the branches had been. The thud as it hit the ground, and the crying and wailing, was awful. Kept me awake so it did.


  1. I say!

    I trust that your slasher was sharp. On the way to Blantyre the other day I saw the prisoners out doing their business, slashing at the overgrowth at the side of the road. They used to salute, as I passed by. But times change.

    MM III

  2. Gardening can be hazardous to your health.

    I suspect the critter will figure out a new landing zone, but is calling you names in its language for having to work out a new path.

    Alternate ice and heat on the shoulder and give the shears a miss for a few days.

  3. Albert? Just take the shears and cut off your testicles. This will make the whole world look completely different! Hotboy

  4. Mingers, one hopes you and Cabbage keep your rifles loaded for when there's a prisoner amnesty and they come to expropriate your house.

    Nanners, I was thinking of using heat, but hadn't thought of alternating cold. Thank you.

    Hotters. Castration makes you fat, doesn't it?