.... random rants and rambles. no agenda. yet.

I do not recommend having a lawn.

The problems started when we got home from France and discovered that everything had grown, as I've already said, so we had to do something about it fast. The tomato plants are currently being seized left, right and centre by eager Freecyclers (currently 11 down, 18 to go) which means our spare room will soon look like a spare room again, and maybe sometime people will stop emailing me and proclaiming their love for tomatoes.

But anyway, that's nothing compared to the Lawnmower Fiasco.

As the people around here are very nice indeed and as we don't have a lawnmower, a fact which was highlighted by our waist-high "lawn", we've been offered lawnmowers by our neighbours on either side, AND someone else has offered to come and mow our lawn for us. So anyway, we chose to borrow N&P's lawnmower since we know them best, so yesterday I went round and waited guiltily in the garden while P rummaged around in his shed producing several strimmers and other things - none of which worked - while N alternated between nagging P and laughing her head off with rolled eyes. So far, so good.

I ended up borrowing a lawnmower which hadn't been tested, but which P assured me definitely worked, and then set about with the shears to make the waist-high lawn shorter and more mower-friendly, as N had told me to do. When it was ready - i.e. it looked like someone had let a chainsaw loose on it - me and C switched on the mower and mowed... but it wouldn't work.

With a sigh, we bundled the mower up and decided to go and ask T on the other side if we could take up her offer of a lawnmower and strimmer instead. This time, they both worked, which was a relief, but also an embarrassment, because we then realised that we hadn't pressed the buttons on N&P's mower properly, which meant it was probably NOT BROKEN AT ALL. Whatever! There's a first time for everything, right? Anyway, all was well until we smelled smoke, and realised that T's lawnmower's motor was burning.

Yes, BURNING. With smoke and everything. Agh!

In shock, we realised we'd just blown up our new neighbour's lawnmower the first time - and probably the last - we'd ever borrowed anything from her. Agh!

So I raced upstairs for some quick Googling and was relieved to find that there's a local company that fixes machines and things, until C phoned up and was told that we shouldn't bother having the lawnmower's motor fixed because it would cost about the same to buy a whole new lawnmower, which was probably what we should do instead. Agh!

There was only one thing for it; we were going to have to buy a new one. I mean, you can't just go around blowing up people's lawnmowers, especially not if they live next door and it's the first thing they've ever lent you, can you? So, after more frantic Googling I worked out the model and drove to B&Q.

After explaining to a very nice B&Q assistant who looked like a cross between Robin Williams and C's Dad (who looks nothing like Robin Williams, funnily enough) and who knew EVERYTHING about lawnmowers, we discovered that the model was not in stock. Agh! Much deliberation and discussion later, I opted for a similar one which happened to be a bit cheaper... well, we weren't going to pretend it was the same one, were we?! I thanked Lawnmower Man for saving my life, paid and left.

Because this is me, and because nothing is ever simple, just as I was leaving the car park, C texted me in a panic to tell me she'd broken the strimmer cord and could I buy a new one. Even though I had no idea that a strimmer had "cord" in it, and thereafter what this cord actually did, I agreed, re-parked and went back into the shop to find Lawnmower Man again.

After a lengthly lesson in the correct way to cut grass, the differences in thickness between different kinds of strimmer lines (not cords, as I was told) and several texts between C and myself, Lawnmower Man guffawed and told me that strimmer line is like a washing line and if a bit breaks off you just pull some more out and carry on. This happens all the time. As we apparently had nothing to worry about there because we didn't need to buy anything else, Lawnmower Man could not understand why I was having such a bad day. I said "I am going home NOW!" and left.

Upon arrival - and finding out there was indeed nothing wrong with the strimmer - C somehow managed to explain to T that we'd blown up her lawnmower, we were very sorry and we'd bought her a new one, all without pausing for breath. The expression on T's face was like how people look on the telly when they open the door in their dressing gown and there's a camera crew there to tell them that they've won a competition ... kind of a mixture of extreme surprise and disbelief, along with the fact that they think whoever's at the door is barmy.

But anyway, in the end, everything was fine. T was so pleased with her new lawnmower that she's already been over to finish cutting our grass for us (not an easy job as we live on a hill) and I think she might consider lending us her strimmer again.

N&P, meanwhile, found the whole thing hilarious; especially P, because he's one of those people who always likes to be right and he couldn't find anything wrong with his mower when he tried to fix it.

And that is why I don't recommend having a lawn. They're far too complicated!