The hedge, a never ending story...
It was a little piece left to do or rather to chop into shape and apart from two totally different sized shears ( hedge shears and gardening scissors ) I had to wheel the ever so useful wheelbarrow to my post at the top of our garden. The sun was thankfully hidden by the height of our hedge and for most of the hour I could work shrouded in shade. A new house is being built down the road and every time I stepped back to check on the evenness of my cutting I had to keep an eye out for cement trucks and their ilk.
Cars idled passed, some drivers stopped to praise my effort and some had a quick glance at my work. Thankfully they only got a glimpse although they might drive that route again to see the result. Called a village drive-bye and even Bob and I have done one or two. One lady walked passed on crutches ( in fact she walks a few kilometers everyday with them and should put paid to any and all excuse we keep coming up with to do some exercise ) and stopped to have a few words with me.
The weather, health and neighbours were top of the list and in fact the only items on the list despite world events being fascinating but those three topics are more interesting when living in a village. Happenstance encounters are where I garner a lot of village tidbits.
At one stage a stranger's car ( we all know who drives which car ) parked outside our neighbour and it turned out to be a handyman clocking in for the day. His ladders and tools gave him away. Naturally I couldn't help overhearing his conversation on arrival and noticed he spoke with a Swiss twang while he told the lady with her crutches on her way to visit her friend, that he was a man for everything.
A sort of 007 of the builder's trade, how marvelous. Without hesitation I approached him to ask for his number. He must be a godsend to elderly ladies living on their own who have difficulty with mowing the lawn, painting the house, fixing a drainpipe or eating a whole cake on their own.
I did have a little chuckle to myself as only a few minutes into his work, my neighbour came outside and asked him if he wanted anything to eat or drink...reminded me a lot of those delightful Agatha Christie novels. Rural life, a blissful life.