The
Ride-on Mower left the farm some months ago, to go cavorting with a handsome gelding out West. Back then, it was the middle of Winter, and there wasn't much work for her anyway, so nobody really missed her (especially Helen, who made it no secret that she hated having to share all the attention).
When Spring arrived, nobody was prepared. The lawns slowly got longer and longer, but there were more pressing issues.
Kim and Cliff had gone their separate ways and needed help packing, the piglets needed a new house, the second vegetable garden needed Chicken Protection, and Albie needed a buck pen.
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Albie, surveying his new plot of land, complete with
Swiss-Style chalet. |
Kim and Cliff were duly shipped off in a horse float and a caged trailer, and the piglets had a bus shelter modified to include a stunning deck with room for a barbecue and some outdoor furniture, and views out over the bush. The tomatoes got a new (and hopefully) chicken-proof fence. But everybody conveniently forgot about Albie and his need for a buck pen, because new pens generally mean new fences, and new fences generally mean digging, and digging generally means Hard Work. Hard Work is technically Mr Farmer's department, but Mr Farmer alleges it isn't in his contract.
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Albie, inside the Bachelor Pad, which is located in a great
neighbourhood, just across the fence from the sheep and
the piglets. |
Happily, someone else came up with a better solution. Since Albie can't work as a buck until Autumn (despite his best [successful] efforts to rut), he was approached about the Spring/Summer position of Lawn Mower. With the help of a few electric fence standards, and a bit of wire, Albie could have his pick of the best grass and weeds in all the places the sheep can't graze, and the plants (who are the reason the sheep can't graze in these locations) could relax in the knowledge that neither insidious grass growth nor hungry animals would harm them. With a bit of coercion (okay, a lead and some dragging), Albie was today enlisted as the farm's new Push/Pull Mower. His package includes limitless grass, and a Swiss-chalet-style bachelor pad.
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"This is, like, the perfect location for a deck. Mr Farmer?" |
Helen has never been happier. Finally, some freedom from that annoying one-and-a-sixteenth-horned buck. Albie is still trying to figure out exactly how he ended up on the front lawn, but is pretty happy with the variety of grass and weeds that have been growing plentifully since the Ride-on Mower left. The only slight disappointment for Albie is that the fruit trees are on the wrong side of the electric fence. The fruit trees are hopeful that our electricity company can refrain from having a power cut, at least until Autumn.
Okay, grant you that grass looks pretty lush, but if it were me, I'd be headed under that fence for those luscious bushes over there. To hay with the deck! There is some serious greenery over there. By the way, I have noticed those Mr. Farmer types ALWAYS find the contract loopholes. Must be a sixth sense.
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