Ok, apologies to anyone who reads my title and gets all excited at the thought of a horror story. I don’t write horror, don’t read it either so… you’re out of luck. My fellow writer Alex Laibourne does though. Look him up 🙂
Now, to the real mulcher. It’s a 2400W thing that looks a bit like an old fashioned meat grinder on the inside. Apparently it works like one too except that this baby is going to be munching up all the branches carpeting my block after the big blow we had recently.
In my own defence I really didn’t race out to buy a new gadget straight away. I did make an effort to pick up those branches but after creating five big piles of KINDLING it suddenly hit me that I’d just spent a lot of effort preparing big bonfires during the worst of the fire season. Clearly I would have to come up with a better plan… but what? I couldn’t bury the stuff – the ground in Warrandyte is just too full of clay and shale, I couldn’t stuff it into the dinky green composting bin provided by Nillumbik shire council – much too small – and I didn’t want to have to hire yet another skip.
And that, my friends, was when inspiration struck [aided by some counting on fingers and toes that proved I could not afford to pay $200 for a skip every time the wind made my eucalypts shed like mangy cats]. So off I went to you-know-where to buy a mulcher.
I am now $319.00 dollars poorer but I figure the new beast will pay for itself before winter… if I can just get it out of the boot. Two nice men from you-know-where put it in there for me but at 5’3″ [and a bit] I have buckleys chance of getting it out again. So here I sit, dreaming about my mulcher and wondering which of my neighbours hasn’t had a hernia yet.