Shreddin'

Quoting from the late and lovely Loelia, Duchess of Westminster,

"Anybody seen in a bus after the age of thirty has been a failure in life."

Transposed to modern times,

Any 60-yr-old duffer seen shredding weeds instead of shreddin' a hot solo on his customized Telecaster, has really  missed the bus.

As you see, one picture quashes a thousand lies.

More ci-licentious behaviour to shape up for the daughters' arrival, this time delightfully spiked in the form of a literal shredder.

I think I've traced my fear and loathing of yardwork to its source:

Surely, it's the complete abasement it demands, of any flickering pulse of pride or self-sufficiency, right?

Signor Dante had it sort of right with his Infernal mission statement to

"Abandon Hope All Ye who Enter Here"

Albeit a tad lenient stopping at mere Hope.

Perhaps they didn't 'do' Gardening in the same way as today, requiring jettisoning of the full monty

Hope (Faith, Charity, all them)

Spirit

Morale

Self esteeminess

Take yer pick

Mind Muzak: I had this good plan to be reciting my Greek lessons as I bent to the lash; instead, I find it safer for sanity and temper to keep up a murmur of foul oaths, the better to anchor the obscenities bubbling from my soul and counter the screams in my head.

Bosom buddy: I'd been told by the guys who fixed the shredder of a 'viper' lurking in the pile of grunge. Probably not a poisonous one but I react sissily to any slithery crawlie.

Anyway, when it did finally ungulate out, I found myself calmly awaiting its nip, welcome release from the present drudgery.

Speaking of Mind Muzak, I was down in Eleni's drinkery, swapping beers with a kraut crowd and taking bets on the freedom Frenchies or the Ities for the footie Cup and happened to moan about my yardwork.

"But dey haff it on die juke box, ja," volunteered Günther, despatching the groaningly under-aged and over-chested Didi to do the honours.

"They have 'yardwork' on the juke??"

"Nein - Kraft werk."

Madeleine Memory back to late 1999: Lion of the Nightkrüe turning from his hackery mastery to express his admiration that I'd even *heard* of Kraftwerk.

You can work your queues and take your calls, but it's the weasel praise that has one preening.

I'm sure I sat a little taller in the keyboard saddle and prolly fired off a buckshee GC to the customer ... funny old life.