Wednesday, May 26th

 

For years, I’ve railed against the proliferation of leaf blowers in our society.  You’ll understand that I mean those un-muffled machines which disturb the peace of innumerable Australian weekends.  I say ‘Australian’ because I don’t know whether any other more civilised international communities allow them.  I can’t imagine them in France, for example, or the leafier suburbs of London.

I’ve commented on the madness of some suburban gardener blowing his fallen leaves into the gutter where they are washed down the drain, and the resulting fallout when there is an inevitable blockage and it takes 6 men, 2 trucks, and an expensive, dedicated mechanical un-blocker 5 days to make it right.

Or the road worker I saw trying to blow surplus blue metal off the side of a bridge, having no success and thinking he needed a bigger blower when he really needed a broom.

In our yard we have roughly 18 square metres of grass which we tend lovingly.  It was clearly bought from a nursery and rolled out in situ.  No matter, it is a very attractive green and it grows lustily.  The ‘lawn’, as we call it, fits between the back of the house and the boundary fence and there is a square of concrete at each end.  And that’s where the problem lies.

When we mow the lawn, grass clippings fly on to the concrete and they are very difficult to remove.  A broom just doesn’t do it and I’m not a fan of hosing.  In this dry continent of ours I resist mis-using water for purely aesthetic reasons.  We all have to do our bit.

Jamie called in the other day to invite me to go to Bunnings with him.  This is nice but I know it is just part of the campaign to stop me becoming a boring old man who spends all his time in the recliner chair. He also likes to take Archie there; he sits on a box in the trolley chatting to the girls who work on the tills.  Ostensibly, Jamie wanted to look at floor tiles for their bathroom but he made a detour through the section with gardening tools.  Apparently he is having trouble with falling leaves and thought he might use a blower to push the leaves back under the tree where they could mulch down and do some good.

He found one machine which was a combined blower and vacuum and suggested this might be good for me, to deal with the grass problem.  I resisted, of course but he pointed out that I would use the vacuum to pick up the grass, rather than the blower.  Because Marilyn is the one who tends to get the job of dealing with the grass, and it pains me to see her frustration, I relented and bought one.

Assembling it posed its own problems but eventually it was ready to go.  As you would expect, the vacuum feature is rubbish but the blower works a treat, and Marilyn is pleased.