Haven't these people heard of power ones

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Image hosted by Photobucket.comOnes that don't need a human to push them along the damned ground.

Ones that, anywhere else in the civilised world (ie, have some sort of electricity supply and/or petrol pumps with cheap ... oh, ok, just the electricity then). But anywhere else these things would be in a museum waiting for little Johnny to go, "Eeeewww, Daaaad, did you ever use one of those things before you got old?!?!"

But here, in the Garden City ... the GARDEN City for lordy-lawks sake. The city that prides itself on being up with latest in garden activities, down with the latest planting info and hip to all things horticultural.

The push-lawn mower .. I mean, come on, really ...

And not a new fandangled modern type of push (or "reel" as I think they're technically called) lawn-mower. Oooh, no - the old fashioned, the "last time I saw such an item it was in black and white and everyone walked a bit too fast" type affair. The actual push lawn-mower you fondly remember your Nanna berating your Grandad to, "Get it out of the shed and do the backyard, it's a disgrace. And us with the Smiths coming over next week."

Nothing wrong with lawn-mowers per se. Whilst I have never owned one and don't really intend to because when it comes to household chores and DIY-stuff I am as far away from being a Kiwi as is possible. I will never buy a house ... fullstop actually. But I will also never live in a house that just needs, "a little doing up".

Hell, I call the AA to change tyres. My life is too short to try and do everything.

For everything, including the lawns, I subscribe to G.A.L.M.I., Get A Little Man In.

They love doing it. They're professionals. They get paid. It's their livelihood. And they own the equipment. The right equipment. Powered lawn-mowing type equipment.

But here in the Garden City they (powered lawn-mowing type equipment) seem to be as rare as working umbrellas in Wellington.

Wherever you go, you see people pushing these damned museum pieces up and down. Heaving their sweaty bodies around the patch they call "the backyard" (or the "lawn"). They don't look like they're having a lot of fun. But there's loads of them doing it.

A work colleague of mine has confirmed this strange Christchurch (is it wider that just the city, do tell) phenomenon. She has noticed the same weird little machines everywhere as well.

In fact, she tells me in confidence (so I'll blog it right here, right now) that her husband went out and bought one recently. Bought one. Recently. Brand new. They're still being made for god's sake!!!

Ah well, don't you love this weird little part of this strange world we live in :-)



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