If I could purr, I would

One of the first jobs we undertook when we began the Cordwood adventure was to tackle the overgrown privet hedge that dominated our northern boundary. With over twenty years of neglect, this goliath glowered down at us Davids from a height of over twenty feet and with trunks that could only be severed with a chainsaw.

August 2014

And when this mighty task was complete we followed it with a heavy day chipping 'the arisings'. It was hard work.

But those days are behind us.

Linda tackles the hedge in Feb 2011

Now, Bob comes each year with his tractor and hedge trimmer. He cuts the hedge with awesome precision including the necessary 'batter' to allow the hedge to cope with heavy falls of snow. It looks crisp and sharp - reminiscent of an eight year old boys haircut on the day he has emerged from the barbers. The hedge only needs 'Nike' or the Adidas tick to make the comparison complete.

And what is wonderful too about Bobs work is that the clippings aren't left in a mountainous pile, but shredded and blown back into the hedge to eventually become a mulch around the feet of the privet plants.

On the  days after Bob's visit, we find ourselves just looking at the hedge. If I could purr, I would.