In an attempt to make the task a little more exciting, I bought myself an electric hedge trimmer. There was no real need for me to do this, but I came over all caveman and thought it would be a wild and dangerous thing to do. Living on the edge, it's where I like to be. Grrrrr.
Last Thursday I decided it was high time to get my big chopper out for the first cut of spring. And off I went, No real plan, just a bit of random slashing, three steps back to have a look, and a bit more random slashing. All good. Until everything went quiet as my trimmer came to a shuddering halt.
Why was a mystery for a moment or two. Until the penny dropped.
Have a close look at my weapon. Can you see the problem? OK, have another look - at the lead.
Yup, mind the gap. I managed to saw my way right through it. Knackered.
I went inside to break the bad news to Mrs White. Who laughed in my face.
But then the situation got even worse.
I'd plugged my now defunct boy toy into an extension lead which was plugged into a socket in our garage. So, as I dug out some old hand clippers to finish the job, I thought I'd plug the radio into the extension lead to cheer myself up. It didn't work.
I'd "obviously" blown the fuse in the lead. So I spent 10 minutes replacing it, before plugging the radio back in. It didn't work. Balls.
I checked the fuse box in the garage.
Here it is. The trip switch had been, er, tripped. So I untripped it. Still no power.
So I swore at it. Made no difference.
Meanwhile, the ice cream in our fridge/freezer in the garage was beginning to melt. Great. I was eventually forced to defrost the whole thing once the electrician said he couldn't come until today.
Today came. So did the electrician.
"Do you have a fuse box inside your house?" he smirked.
"Can I have a look?"
He had a look. And untripped the switch which had "GARAGE" written above it.
He only charged me a tenner because he felt sorry for me.
But not as much as I felt sorry for myself.