Remembering the Wicklow Massacre
I cut the grass yesterday.
This may not seem in any way noteworthy except for one little fact – it hadn’t been cut since last June or so. The grass was long which is putting it very mildly. There were thistles and raspberry canes rising to a couple of feet [fucking raspberries are impossible to kill apparently]. There was even a sapling or five of birch and ash. It was a mess.
Another problem was that it was wet. The previous week had been dry and sunny but the grass was so long it was still sodden.
I filled the mower’s tank and wheeled it out. It wouldn’t start. Of course it wouldn’t. Life is never that simple. It was obviously an electrical fault so I had to sit the mower up on its arse into its Meercat position. I had promised Herself I wouldn’t do that as it involved heavy lifting, but at that time I hadn’t realised it was necessary.. Promises are made to be broken.
I checked all the connections and tightened a few nuts and then sat the mower down again. This time the electrics worked but the battery was flat. I put the charger on.
According to the weather radar sites on the Interweb there was a dirty great lump of rain heading up from the south so I didn’t have much time, so after an hour I tried again. The mower started.
I set off doing the front garden first. The blades were set at their highest but it was still tough going. I then laced into the main garden and that’s where the fun started.
I had done a lap or two when I noticed a phenomenon – just in front of the mower there was a frequent twitching of the blades of grass. There was something in there. I looked closely and realised it was frogs. They were hard to see because they were tiny – about the size of a small fly – and were much the same colour as the grass. There were dozens, possibly hundreds of them, all pinging around as the mower approached.
I had a problem. They all seemed to be suicidal as they seemed determined to hop right into the path of the mower. What was I to do? I tried dodging the area where I had seen a frog land but promptly mowed down another family. That also left patches of long grass which looked weird and untidy. There was nothing for it but to pretend I hadn’t seen the little hoppers. They would have to take their chances. I would have to close my ears to the screams as whole families were pulped beneath me
I finished before the rain started. The grass is still fairly long but at least it’s all the same length. It looks quite neat.
Now if only I could forget the genocide I had caused.
Was this your doing?
No. It was hard enough flattening my own ecosystem without doing anyone else's
Some politicians will undoubtedly blame the Brits for your massacre!
I could write you a short story about the trials and tribulations caused by my mower this year, I'm sick of the dammed thing!
I think you'll be forgiven for this so-called massacre alright. For every one you killed there was a thousand more just like 'em waiting on the sidelines ready to jump in after you passed through.