It's been a busy couple of days for me, as I promised to strim the grounds of our village hall earlier this week.
Unlike many larger villages, we've still got our original hall which was built before WW1, and used as a hospital during the first world war. Although I'm impressed by some of the newer village halls, it is nice to still have the original in our little village.
Around the back of the hall wild garlic is everywhere, with the result that I now smell like a french onion seller!
My old strimmer is back in full working order after a good service; although I was a bit shocked at the £65 bill at first, it's not been serviced for several years, so I suppose it's about right. The old girl is now running like a dream.
The machine itself is quite old. When I was approaching my twenty-first birthday, my old mum asked me what I'd like as a present. "A brushcutter please" was my characteristic reply, and the machine was obtained secondhand. I'm not sure of it's vintage, but it's at least twenty years old, and owes me nothing.
As I stimmed away at the hall, I thought of times past, and wondered how jobs like that were done in the pre-strimmer days. I guess some poor old sod had to hack away with a hook - not a job to be relished. Aren't we lucky to have the machines and gadgets we have now?
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