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knickers to strimmers

The Frome Fossil

Iwas sitting outside my beloved local. Beside me was my ageing bike, leaning against the table. Before me were a pint of dry, a packet of crisps and a pickled egg. The sun shone on the garden and the limestone walls and the trees stretching away across the camping field. A blackbird sang from a hedge top. All was simple and serene. I breathed a sigh of deep content. Then a bloke sidled over bearing a strimmer and, with an apologetic grin, fired it up.

Why here, of all the pubs in all the world, did the borders need strimming? The lawn was already shaved flat. What was so offensive about a few wisps of grass and docks around the edges? And why – even if they were offensive – was it necessary to bring out a large, deafening, fume-belching machine to obliterate them? For years, the loudest sound to be heard in this heavenly spot was the flapping of the old landlady’s outsize knickers on the washing line. In their place we now have the whining of tiny engines.

For this is the new face of gardening. There is no job too piffling, no lawn too tiny, no branch too slender that they discourage folk from buying a loud and expensive machine to deal with them. A few dandelions in the wrong place? Strim ‘em. Want to prune the odd twig from your cherry? Plug in the mini-chainsaw. Suspicion of lichen on your decking? Blast it to hell with a power washer. Or (the ultimate calamity) a drift of fallen foliage on your patio? Time to crank up the leaf blower. Grouchy old fossils like me will point out that you could do all these things more quickly and cheaply with a pair of shears, a bowsaw and a rake. Or not at all. And that’s the real point. Technology has seduced us into believing that we can defeat Nature: all we need are ever savager chemicals and heftier tools. This sad delusion has impoverished our farmland and devastated our wildlife. It has also turned gardeners into a tribe of neatness maniacs, their metaphorical breast pockets full of biros, their paperclips counted, their staplers polished. They fear anarchy. A strimmer is to them like an assault rifle in the hands of a Proud Boy. They forget that weeds can be beautiful, and long grass lush, and chaos joyful.

ALL HALLOWS

It’s not too late...

... to apply for a place for September! We still have places available in some year groups. Come and discover why our children are thriving and apply now to join us in the Autumn Term. Just call Jackie on 01749 881609 for more information and to arrange your visit

Set in a stunning location in East Cranmore, just 15 minutes from Frome and Bruton, with minibus transport available, All Hallows is a day and boarding prep school for children aged 3 to 13. A creative and dynamic curriculum, with our pupils’ happiness and well-being at the heart of all decision-making, is producing outstanding results. Children are moving on to their senior schools, confident in who they are and ready to make the most of the opportunities that lie ahead. www.allhallowsschool.co.uk