Lush Places: Careful with that strimmer, Eugene
IN LUSH Places, there is a burst of collective expletives as men all over the village do the strimming dance.
It is performed to the smell of petrol and set to a score of swear words.
On the village lawns and workshops, the strimmers suddenly take on lives of their own, like the broomsticks in Harry Potter. They even have names. Our neighbour, Eugene, has three adjectives for his and one noun, all beginning with ‘B’. Oddly, Mr Grigg’s strimmer, which has just been thrown into the skip, has the same name.
The local agricultural engineer tells me that each spring he is besieged by ‘bastard strimmers’ as the village’s menfolk try unsuccessfully to start them up again for the season.
Just across the road, though, an elderly neighbour’s spanking new mower cuts through the grass like a warm spoon through Waitrose ice cream. He is preparing the ground for the croquet lawn. Croquet – something I thought was played only by posh people and Alice in Wonderland.
Anyone for croquet? Picture: Meagan Jean, used under Flickr's Creative Commons attribution licence
I think he might be trying to get as much exercise as he can, after reading in his Daily Telegraph today that charities and councils have accused the new coalition Government of ignoring the need for reform of care for the elderly.
Health Secretary Andrew Lansley is reported to have said the Government is committed to ‘long-term reform based on prevention, partnership, personalisation and protection.’
Within this catchy four-Ps soundbite – which when spoken is not dissimilar to a strimmer spluttering into life – the one word that worries me is ‘prevention’. Is the coalition seriously considering the prevention of old age? Now that is scary.
It reminds me of the Gobblers in Philip Pullman’s Northern Lights only in reverse. These were the sinister folk who snatched children off the streets to remove their souls for the greater good.
On second thoughts Mr Grigg, get that strimmer back out from the skip. You just might be needing that to fend off a Government Gobbler. Hit me with your croquet mallet.
Editor’s Note: Maddie Grigg was this week picked out by Google as a Blogger of Note, a distinction which – when discovered – prompted some entertaining exclamations on Twitter. Such as:
OMG, as the young people say, I’ve been chosen as a Blogger of Note. Lots of Oscar-style thank yous and a dead rat. http://ow.ly/1KOlA 9:49 PM May 13th via HootSuite
@Laales – many thanks. I have new enthusiasm now. I feel something big is about to happen. Oh, Mr Grigg is in the toilet. 1:55 PM May 15th via HootSuite in reply to Laales
@greendrawers – I’m trying not to let the award go to my head, but, honestly, you can probably see my head from out at sea now. 2:47 PM May 15th via HootSuite in reply to greendrawers
You can read more from her at The world from my window, about West Dorset village life, and Manor from Heaven, about Mapperton House near Beaminster. Affectionate, amusing, strongly recommended.