Folks,

What with the outbreak of that wet stuff from the skies last month, we are
now in the throes of doing some serious gardening. One job on the list of
must-do's was to convert about 8 wool-packs and 3 wheelie-bins full of plant
clippings, chopped shrubs and branches into wood-chips.

I returned home yesterday from town with a new battery for the mulcher. It
runs once in a blue moon, so we often forget to do anything about the
battery till it's too late. This time I think I'll plug one of the spare
solar chargers into it, and see if that keeps the battery topped up. The
chipper is a Grandberg unit, with a 9hp Honda electric start. It is the
beast from hell when running, and I well understand the warning messages at
the mouth of that great munching maw...
I bought an electric start unit so my mother could operate it. However,
seeing how angry(and hungry!) it is when running, I forbid her to use it...

For all that, it makes wood chips out of near anything!

One of the wheelie bins was apparently open when the last rains fell, and I
found that by the time I got near the bottom, I was plunging hands into
black goopy stuff. It was as I dropped another serve of this assorted
fodder into the maw of the beast, that I espied a little brown frog(desert
tree frog - Litoria Rubella), trying to clamber out of the leaves. I tried
to herd him towards safety with my push-um stick, but he assumed I was
trying to eat him, and leapt into the cavernous mouth of the beast.

Ya want to know what noise a frog makes going through the chipper?? Barely
a 'zztzing'...

I did end up rescuing the other 35 frogs camping in the wheelie bin, and
they are currently lurking down the bottom in the remaining water & leaves.

Finishing up for the day, I have about a cubic metre of wood chips, plus one
frog short...At least I still have all my fingers.

This morning, I fired up the evil beast again, and proceeded to make short
work of a branch that came down in high winds last week, along with another
wool-pack of shrub clippings my mother had kindly left for me... As Roddy
goes to grab yet another handfull of prunings from the wool-pack, something
reptillian flashes out and latches onto my glove. Not exactly prepared for
this, I confess to yelling my bloody head off! I thought it was some angry
snake like a King Brown or similar. I had visions of a quick trip to
hospital for anti-venine shots, or similar...Turns out to be a very dopey
Gilberts Dragon, who was mightily displeased at being disturbed during her
winter sleepover. After getting the heart-rate under control, I detach her
from my glove, and place her in a spare chiller-bin for safe-keeping till I
finished(marauding chooks). By the time I had empited the bag of prunings,
I had found Mrs Gilberts off-sider, who also was most upset at the
disturbance. I took a heap of pics of Gilberts x 2, as they glared at me
from the depths of the chiller bin. I then released them back into a pile
of wood-chips, at which point the larger one thoughtfully bit my finger
again in gratitude.

I also note that chooks seem to be industrially deaf; one stood not 2 feet
from the mulcher this morning, while I am finding it very loud with
heavy-duty ear-mufffs on. Not this chook; had a bit of a peck, bit of a
scratch, bit more of a peck. Not troubled at all by the screaming
beast...weird animals.

That's all for now; do check your bags of prunings for unexpected intruders.
Funnel-webs, King Bowns, Redbacks and other biteys are welcome to ride the
feed chute to hell if they wish, but I draw the line at frogs and lizards...

Cheers,

Rod.......Out Back