Tuesday 29th July 2025

I am writing this on Wednesday, and so thinking about what we did yesterday, and for a few moments, I drew a blank.

The news is, I got a new piece of garden equipment: a scarifier.

And electric one.

I have had a manual one for a decade, to prepare the lawnmeadow for the winter and possible spreading seed for the upcoming season.

Truth is, the thought of dragging the tool through the thatch for a day or two did not fill me with joy, huffing and puffing all the while dealing with my grumbling back.

So, as a retirement present for myself, I got an electric one. One that can be pushed, has two blades: one for scarifying and the other for (easy) raking.

First of all, the box had to be opened and the machine assembled, following the wordless instructions.

Now, I had not slept well, and so was not in the best of moods, and spurned Jools's offer of help in the assembly.

Truth is, it was easy enough, seemed to be correct, so I had to road test it.

After a brew, I got the cable reel out, plugged in the machine, pressed the button and pulled the lever.

ROAR.

It went.

As much as an electric motor can roar, and the drum with blades spun.

I put on the box, and started.

As per the reviews online, the box wasn't big enough, so after one half length of the garden and back, the box had to be taken off and emptied.

No matter how annoying that might be, it was far, far easier that the manual tool.

In twenty minutes the main part of the garden was done, but despite no rain was forecast, there was rain in the air, hinting it might begin to get worse.

Even I know electrics and water don't mix.

So I quickly packed it all away, put in the shed and went to sit on the patio to monitor the weather and look at the lovely lawnmeadow, now mostly thatch-less.

We had lunch, which meant an afternoon struggling against the drooping eyelids and a power snooze.

Jools made tiramisu for consumption on Wednesday when were we spending the day entertaining.

I made breaded sliced aubergine for dinner, which we wolfed down with yet more pasta salad and a glass or three of red vino collapso.

The nights are drawing in, doubly so when cloudy, so to bed at half eight to read more of WSC while impatient Cleo glared at me waiting for me to turn the light out so we could go to sleep.