Haircut day

The morals and ethics of pushing the envelope

“But that's cheating”.

That was DLL's point of view.

“No. You just try it on, the ref lets it go, so you try it on a bit more, he still lets it go, and so on, until he gives you a ticking off. Then you know where the boundary is, just how far you can push things.”

“But that's still cheating. I'd rather know I'd won properly.” She's such a nice kid.

“But that's okay if you're loads better than your opponents. If you're evenly matched, and little things can make a big difference, then the team that pushes harder will have the advantage.”

“Well. I'd still rather just play fair...”

I was just about to tell her what a fantastic, high-integrity human being she is, when...

“...now board games, that's a different matter.”

It must be shears Sunday, or the shorn Sabbath

The lawn got its first haircut of mowing season. The mower wasn't mothballed in November, when the rains came. Mothballed suggests some care and due process. The mower has sat in the shed since it was last used, about four months ago.

It needed petrol, one more push on the priming button than normal, and then it started.

We have the same battle at first mowing every year. First of all, mindful of the wet ground conditions and the possibility of future frosts and stuff, I raise the cutting height as far as possible. Whereupon BLISS says:

“Well that's just a waste of time – it's doing nothing.”

I then lower it to a fair and decent compromise height. But BLISS isn't good at compromise and lowers it still further as soon as my back's turned, winning that one, once again. At least this year she didn't do the usual and set it “bowling green” like she normally does.

Next it was me, out in the garden, in the sunshine, for an overdue haircut. They talk about me as if I'm not there. I know what those poor Crufts competitors must feel like.

“It's really shiny.”

“Grey on top and white at the sides, what's going on there?”

“It's in good condition.”

“Hold still, I'll de-maniac your eyebrows a bit.”

Maybe I should keep more of a careful eye on where the offcuts go. They could have a life-sized voodoo doll stuffed with my own hair by now.

“Why do you keep growing it?”

Must admit, that one had me nonplussed.

“I don't feel I have a choice, really.”