Poldarkness on the edge of town
This weekend it was our turn to mow the communal lawn - first time this year. And rather than face the hassle of extricating the petrol mower and then trying to coax its decrepitude into life, I decided to try the push-mower that we use for the back lawn. First attempts weren't encouraging. So I sharpened the blades and adjusted the cutting height upwards. It still wasn't great. It would cut properly for a metre then jam itself on a chunk of moss or a hunk of thick, lush grass. But I persevered. And got hot and sweaty. And took my shirt off. You remember the fuss about the buff Poldark scything his meadows? same deal.
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