Since, uniquely, I didn't have any work i began tackling the garden on Tuesday and Wednesday. My strategy was to start at the back door and work outwards. The climbing plant that is suppsed to be wrapped around a pergola is actually in the lean-to and damaging its already delicate construction. So, i removed that and then began to tackle the outdoors. The (unknown) climber is meant to climb but it just hangs and makes it difficult to walk around/under so it was severely cut back and will be trained to climb around the frame in the future. I also gathered the many plantless pots which were randomly scattered and found a roll of cine film in one. No porn. I don't have a projector but it appears to be a cartoon.
Today i prioritised the garden again rather than start proper work. I paid the second-hand lawnmower man, who is half a mile up the road, a visit. He flatteringly said i looked young and fit enough to have a mower that i just pushed. No electricity, no petrol, just raw muscle power. I told him he was deluded and i wanted something with an engine the size of my car at the very least. He had a Mountfield for £100 which seemed a good deal so i nipped home and checked the internet and that model was £329 brand new. Bargain. Only a fool would turn it down but instead this fool went and bought it. Had i bought a new one someone might have helped me put it into the car but instead they watched and commented on how surprisingly roomy the Peugeot 206 is. I clutched at my back and drove home. I lifted it out of the car, left it in the garage and satnav'd my way to Homebase. I use the Satnav constantly. Having only been here two weeks i'd never find anwhere and never find my way home again without it.
There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the organisation of the Homebase store. I wandered looking like a tool looking for a tool and then asked a little woman (employee) who, once she had found the first thing i wanted, i showed my list and she guided me around the store. Even there i need Satnav! So, i headed home with my trowel, loppers, rake etc and then set about mowing the lawn. The grass is long. It waves in the wind like a field of corn. Unsurprisingly, after only mowing three lengths (up, down, up again) the mower died. £100 for 15 minutes. Bargain!
I'm not a practical person. I try but the making, fixing, DIYing gene is not present in this body. So i rang my dad. He'd never encountered the problem i described but said i should try something which i did and it worked. I was Mowbile again. Now, that's a skill. My dad comes from a generation that makes things, fixes things, services his own car, that sort of thing. If he wanted a thingummajig he wouldn't go and buy one he'd buy some parts and make one. Life Coach Michael Neill tells a story about how, when he was a child, his father was able to fix all sorts of things and Michael felt inadequate and believed he'd never be so skilled. Now that he is the age his father was he has the skills dad had and his own son feels inadequate and lacking in skills. That hasn't happened to me. I have the same skill level i had when i was seven only now when DIY goes badly i can swear with a ferocity that is truly impressive.
I'm not truly without any skills though. I saw a client this week who told me he got someone to help him assemble an Ikea coffee table. How difficult could that be?? A top and four legs.
