After yesterday's disaster in the pig pen, when Little Pig died of a twisted gut, today was bound to be better. Our friendly builder
didn't show up though, he skippered Hereford Rugby Club to a win yesterday but cracked his ribs so spent the day resting his hangover, I mean resting his ribs rather than putting more blocks on the wall.
As all the animals were alive and as we were not building I vented my frustrations on the root of all evil again. The top pic is before, the bottom pic is five hours after. I am winning, really I am, but progress is painfully slow. Painfully being an operative word. Tracey thought I was having an emotional moment late afternoon, perhaps the expression on my face and erratic breathing was because I was worried about Ben currently fighting the Taliban, no, it
wasn't, it was as a result of the axe bouncing off the steel hard holly tree base and hitting my leg. Luckily my high lace boot saved a deep cut but the bruise and swelling is a reminder to be more careful when axe handling. Experience is a hard school! Bliss decided to join me at one stage, oblivious of her masters erratic aim with the axe she sat and
watched patiently for something to happen.
By end of play today the root knows its plans to dominate the smallholding are numbered, I think another 15 hours with the axe will see the back of it, especially when followed by 10 hours of
wheelbarrowing the mud and wood chips away. You might wonder why I
don't get a man with a digger to spend 15 minutes removing the offending flora, well it seems the romance for Trevor is back on and we need the money to purchase his
Internet bride.
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