Today I was forced to go and buy me some new secateurs (yes, I did have to look up how to spell that). The reason for this investment was to chop back a plant that insists on rampaging across our drive, making car parking tricky and alighting from the passenger door downright dangerous.
Having taken these shears into action against the plant I have fallen in love with them, and not just because they cost nearly three times more than I thought when I picked them off the shelf in the hardware store. Although, the shock-at-the-till price is probably part of the equation, because the reason for my obsession is that they’re so damned good at cutting things.
This has led to all kinds of impromptu pruning, right into this evening, where I cut a swathe into a section of foliage that can only be described as ‘The jungle… on the cliff’. Yep, they build houses on steep land round these parts.
This gleeful cutting frenzy reminds me of the time when I was a kid that my dad taught me to use his hand drill. Brill, I thought, now I can drill holes in things. I started with wood, but that was too much like hard work. Looking around my eye fixed on the soft rubber of the hose pipe, which I promptly perforated along its length. It was a joy drilling those holes, each one so rapid to bore. If only everything in life was as easy as drilling those holes or using my super secateurs.