It's a one of those rare warm days in Melbourne. Fantabulous weather for a spot of gardening - say what old chum?
So - I have discovered the joys of weed-eaters. ( weed-whackers if you're American, and whirly something or other if you're Australian)
We have bought a petrol one, 2 reasons mainly , firstly the battery ones are just to piddly to handle the vicious grass we have round the side of our rental house. Durban Blue has nothing on this stuff, I'm wishing for some pansy ass African veld-grass right about now actually.
And secondly because we are responsible for clearing away the weeds when construction begins on our house. Seriously. It's another one of those strange, strange things about being in Australia. Just before the building company takes possession ( as it were) of your stukkie grond. You are responsible to clear away any tall grass and weeds.
Now of course this is Australia , so there are no bunches of workers on the corners waiting to be picked up in a Ute ( that's Australian for Bakkie) ready and willing to clear the stuff for you for R100 (which is about $15 AUD at the current exchange rate) , lunch and a 2L coke.
Ergo - you either fork out a bazillion dollars to hire someone to do it, because no-one in the right mind would work for $15 . Or you do it yourself.
So - the expedition to Bunnings was interesting , see - I do all the gardening in the house.
My husband is highly allergic to cut grass - so he cannot mow the lawn. And hence I had to 'try on' the weed-eaters to make sure that I could not only hold it , but carry it around , and handle it well enough to actually cut the grass. It was highly amusing to some of the patrons, and one lovely gentleman even commented to his wife that she should take notes about how I'm practicing to cut the grass. I doubt he made it home alive judging by the look on her face.
So I was in the back yard today, round the side where the strips of hell pretending to be grass are growing , getting the hang of the thing - and I have come to 2 conclusions.
First - I reckon they should rename Tennis Elbow to Weed-Eater Bicep.
Second - I don't know that I'm gonna make it through a whole block of land , as opposed to a strip or 2 here and there in the back yard.
Even with the harness ( which is still too big for my tiny little frame even at the smallest setting ) I am too short to leave the damn thing hanging on my shoulder and I need to lift it up so I can get that nice swaying action going to cut the grass properly.
And that she be a problem. Because there's only so long that tiny lil' ole me can hold up 7kg with one hand while holding a throttle down with the same hand and trying to cut grass and miss my toes and the neighbours fence , and avoid getting the long grass all tangled in the bottom of the weed-eater - all at once.
I thought I had been through the depths of depravity when I made it out of the corporate shark tank in one piece with my sanity ( mostly) in tact. But let me tell you --- handling this baby makes me realise that corporate boardrooms are child's play.
I'd much rather go toe to toe with a vicious Exec ( mostly because I know I could handle it and have them begging for mercy in about 3 milliseconds) than contemplate running that devilish contraption for the amount of time it would take to clear a whole block of land.
The other option is that I get my husband to take so many anti-histamines that he doesn't know his own name, give him a gas mask and then send him forth to conquer the great Australian weed patch.
hrm --- I'll have to fish out the weed-killer that we bought a while back and mix up a batch to throw down and hope that it kills off the worst of the grass ---
So - I have discovered the joys of weed-eaters. ( weed-whackers if you're American, and whirly something or other if you're Australian)
We have bought a petrol one, 2 reasons mainly , firstly the battery ones are just to piddly to handle the vicious grass we have round the side of our rental house. Durban Blue has nothing on this stuff, I'm wishing for some pansy ass African veld-grass right about now actually.
And secondly because we are responsible for clearing away the weeds when construction begins on our house. Seriously. It's another one of those strange, strange things about being in Australia. Just before the building company takes possession ( as it were) of your stukkie grond. You are responsible to clear away any tall grass and weeds.
Now of course this is Australia , so there are no bunches of workers on the corners waiting to be picked up in a Ute ( that's Australian for Bakkie) ready and willing to clear the stuff for you for R100 (which is about $15 AUD at the current exchange rate) , lunch and a 2L coke.
Ergo - you either fork out a bazillion dollars to hire someone to do it, because no-one in the right mind would work for $15 . Or you do it yourself.
So - the expedition to Bunnings was interesting , see - I do all the gardening in the house.
My husband is highly allergic to cut grass - so he cannot mow the lawn. And hence I had to 'try on' the weed-eaters to make sure that I could not only hold it , but carry it around , and handle it well enough to actually cut the grass. It was highly amusing to some of the patrons, and one lovely gentleman even commented to his wife that she should take notes about how I'm practicing to cut the grass. I doubt he made it home alive judging by the look on her face.
So I was in the back yard today, round the side where the strips of hell pretending to be grass are growing , getting the hang of the thing - and I have come to 2 conclusions.
First - I reckon they should rename Tennis Elbow to Weed-Eater Bicep.
Second - I don't know that I'm gonna make it through a whole block of land , as opposed to a strip or 2 here and there in the back yard.
Even with the harness ( which is still too big for my tiny little frame even at the smallest setting ) I am too short to leave the damn thing hanging on my shoulder and I need to lift it up so I can get that nice swaying action going to cut the grass properly.
And that she be a problem. Because there's only so long that tiny lil' ole me can hold up 7kg with one hand while holding a throttle down with the same hand and trying to cut grass and miss my toes and the neighbours fence , and avoid getting the long grass all tangled in the bottom of the weed-eater - all at once.
I thought I had been through the depths of depravity when I made it out of the corporate shark tank in one piece with my sanity ( mostly) in tact. But let me tell you --- handling this baby makes me realise that corporate boardrooms are child's play.
I'd much rather go toe to toe with a vicious Exec ( mostly because I know I could handle it and have them begging for mercy in about 3 milliseconds) than contemplate running that devilish contraption for the amount of time it would take to clear a whole block of land.
The other option is that I get my husband to take so many anti-histamines that he doesn't know his own name, give him a gas mask and then send him forth to conquer the great Australian weed patch.
hrm --- I'll have to fish out the weed-killer that we bought a while back and mix up a batch to throw down and hope that it kills off the worst of the grass ---
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