Saturday, August 11, 2007

I've been.....

.... up a tree.

If ever there was conclusive proof that a gentleman of a certain age should not be climbing trees anymore, then I think I have it.

A day of tree surgery (for surgery, read butchery) has left me with little cuts, scratches, twinges, aches and pains all over.

Wielding long handled loppers and a variety of saws whilst clinging onto the branches of an ash tree, some twenty to thirty feet off the ground, isn't really what a man of my gentle persuasion should be doing. I think I am more of a tree hugger than a tree surgeon.

Cue drifty dream sequence..... Scalpel..... swab...... chainsaw...... Ellen, can you tidy up here please?.... Doctor, the cherry tree is flatlining..... stand clear...... Bzzzzzz

Today is earmarked for more of the same.

In all honesty, this bout of activity is not self motivated. The impetus comes from a pair of my mum's friends. They are so "get up and go" that it puts my "lie down and think about it for six months" attitude somewhat to shame.

Perhaps I can talk everyone into playing bowling on the Nintendo today instead of hacking more trees down? I live in hope.

RIP Tony Wilson (1950 - 2007) - Son of "Madchester" and father of the Hacienda.

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