Tuesday, March 1st

Jamie has the urge to sort out all the photographs we've gathered over the years and which now live in various boxes in our two homes.  Of course, the novelty wore off and he has realised what a mammoth task it is. "You're not busy at the moment, Dad.  Maybe you could do a few."

A few?  I have a plastic box full and have hardly scratched the surface.  The really old photos are great fun and I've realised that there are faces in them that I've never identified or have forgotten.  There are also the gems like the school photo of me when I was 6 years old and the one probably taken in 1944 with me sitting on Mum's knee, showing off my curls.

I did some more mowing but the effect I'm looking for is marred by the scraggy weeds that grow around the edges of the yard and the rockeries (that's our polite way of referring to the many piles of unruly rocks we have).  Jamie has a whipper-snipper and will come and have a go when we ask him.  I know I could do it myself but I hate the thing.  I've realised that I hate small petrol engines altogether.  I've had difficult relationships over the years with small mowers, chainsaws and whipper-snippers so I've developed an aversion.  Somebody should invent garden machines that don't need small petrol engines. And, of course, they have.

We already have a Ryobi drill and it's possible now to buy 39 other gadgets which use the same battery!  So, a quick trip to Bunnings and I have a Ryobi whipper snipper which won't whinge and complain when I try to use it.  I also have a list of the other tools that Ryobi is encouraging me to collect.  The sky is the limit although I'll be hard-pressed to find a use for an Air Strike Brad Nailer, for example.