the village idiot

Put Arzgarth through the car wash this morning. He has a pathological fear of taps, bathrooms are a no go, and his personal hygiene suffers terribly. He loves the car wash though, giggles the whole way through. A quick squeegy on his spectacles at the end and he's good to go another year. The pressure washer also comes in very handy. Arzgarth subsists purely on a diet of Pepperami and Um bongo. This is causing his brain to break down. The discharge accumulates in his ear canals making him almost completely deaf. Arzgarth has no issue with this, it helps him to tune out Megabitch's vile rantings, but it does cause some problems. Last tuesday before popping out to see Granny Doom I'd asked him to collect logs for the fire. Upon my return I found him hunched infront of the stove feeding lit matches into a pyramid of bemused looking frogs. On this occasion we made the best of it, and six packs of firelighters later we had a roaring blaze with some very pleasing sizzles and pops. Superb heat output, but the stove glass is never going to come up clean. Anyway, I digress. Blasting out Arzgarth's brain juices is a simple matter of inserting the pressure wash nozzle in one ear and applying a 30 second 90psi pulse. Typically about half way through the proceedure the outflow runs clear. The final 15 seconds is purely for Arzgarth's pleasure. We then temporarily pack his ear canals with smooth peanut butter plugs (post proceedure Arzgarth's hearing is particularly acute and unfortunately he is terrified of the sound of his own footsteps) The peanut butter plugs allow time for a small build up of cranial leakage and we are able to walk back to the yurt. After his first treatment Arzgarth was rooted to the spot for three weeks. Sanjeev had to close pump number 5, he was most upset so I sent him a consolatory bag of bombay mix. I haven't heard back from him so I presume we are all good. Anyhow, that was Arzgarth's annual wash and wax. I am now putting my boots up whilst Arzgarth sets to, shovelling out the septic tank. Quite fortuitously Megabitch has contracted laryngitus and lost her voice after breathing in the fumes from Tuesday's fire. All is right with the world.

Thought i hadn't seen him in a while...... You can still visit him if you like Silky. Arzgarth pickled him in vinegar. He got a good deal on 30,000 sachets from the cash and carry and preserved McTavish in one of our old Terrapin tanks. Since Arzgarth gave up on shadow puppetry our evening's entertainment consists of watching his body slowly decompose. Megabitch (Slayer of Serenity) has taken to dipping her chips in there. Arzgarth and I believe this is symptomatic of her general lack of respect.

No Silky, that's Hoppin' Mad Wolfie McTavish. Banished to the forest was he. A promising cling film rep in his prime, but his gingerness slowly poisoned his brilliant mind. I put him out of his misery a few years back. He got caught in one of Arzgarth's wizard snares. I mistook him for a rabid Orangutan (we were having lots of problems at the time) and finished him off with a double legged Persian scissor choke. A tragic loss to the world of thin plastic food coverings, but crucially one less ginger in the gene pool.

Arrrrghhh! I believe that is the correct terminology.

Holy mother of God! You should be in a museum. Norse mythology or early man exhibit. That is a damn striking photo. Hang on a tick, let me have a go...

Massive derail here, but speaking of walls, has anyone seen this optical illusion? Have a look at this picture and tell me what you see.

Ah, apologies, my bad. Can you post us a pic so we can compare? Peeking over a wall is optional.

Groovy! Looks like the singer left the barber's in a bit of a hurry!

I'd be miffed too if I had a dry stone wall instead of a body. Do they just carry him around and plonk him down as the first line of defence?

This is my personal favourite of theirs. The Scream of the Iron Messiah!

Nope. Being tree surgeons they are far too expensive. They price their make-up into the job and keep telling me I have to pay more for professional outfits. I tend to go with these guys for musical accompaniment. Badass! And not a whiff of ginger.

They do grow in the fields around the wood, but Arzgarth gets up early and makes his morning porrigde with them. He then likes to go and feed the ducks.

Tree surgeons. All of them.

I am not one of you! It's just a umm.. err.. a trick of the light! That's right isn't it Arzgarth? "YES MASTER" See, see, Arzgarth knows. Good boy Arzgarth, good boy.

Yes, my drinking preferences generally result in me being pretty parched. Thought I might broaden the range a little and try some of that Um bongo. Arzgarth drinks it all the time and shows no ill effects.

I lick the dew from the wind bitten cheeks of frosty maidens htb.

Had an unfortunate but all too predictable situation at the Wood today. An unashamedly ginger rival logger strayed onto my patch. He was wielding a mightily impressive double header and was no doubt intent on scrumping some of my trees. Luckily I had been pre warned of this unwelcome visitation. The dark Lord Odin had left the unmistakable portent of a stray crouton in my reliably crouton free Chicken and Mushroom Cup a Soup. I had taken good heed of this warning and for the last two weeks I had been concealed under a blanket of moss, awaiting the unwelcome visitor. Fortunately I had instructed my trusty friend Arzgarth the Putrid to deliver me pepperami's at regular intervals through a discreet slit cut in the sphagnum. Upon hearing the flat footed patter (unique to an axe wielding ginger) I sprung out of my hidey hole to confront the runt. Unfortunately the terrifying effect of my lunge was somewhat compromised, as my 14 days motionless underground had taken it's toll on my muscles. At the apex of my heroic spring all my muscles went into spasm and I landed with a slap at his feet, stiff as an ironing board and squeeking in agony. After a few seconds I regained control of my body and stood up, my plan being to execute the same move again with more aplomb. Unluckily for my assailant he chose this exact moment to straddle me, presumably in order to deliver a fatal axe blow. The point of my Mongolian Battle Hat caught him directly in his ginger nuts and he doubled over in pain, splitting his trousers to reveal an impressive pair of Super Ted underpants. We spent the next three or four minutes wheezing against opposing pines before eventually re-commencing battle. Luckily for me the ginger impinger had not anticipated resistance and had left his shield in his Suzuki Jimny. This left him open to a flurry of perfectly executed Burmese broadsword backhands, and before long he was reduced to a red and orange dribbling mess at the base of my thigh high Ottoman battle boots. As luck would have it, Arzgarth arrived mid conquest with a hairy fist full of pepperami's and managed to take this snap of the action on the funsnaps camera his wife Megabitch (Slayer of Serenity) got him for Crimbo. I post this as a warning to all those who know there to be gingers in the vicinity. Take good heed of your hot instant savoury beverages and show no mercy. Arzgarth was so pleased he had finally worked out which button meant 'go' that he soon after doubled his count of successful shots with a selfie. Arzgarth (the putrid) Footnote: I just received a telegram from the Forestry Commission. Apparently one of their woodland officers was going to pop in to return an axe I had lent them and discuss the latest grant proposals. He was on his way home from a Middle Earth battle re-enactment. Hope he shows up soon, I need to alert him to the worrying resurgence of the Orange Order, introducing un-natural pigmentation to nature's beautiful palette. Stay vigilant. TVI.

Not sure I agree with that Marcus. I can see how family businesses can sometimes be wholly effective, but I don't agree that it is the only model that really works. What matters I think is your ethics towards the world as a whole, how you view your customers and your emloyees regardless of whether any of them are family or not. I run a very small business. I provide an income for two people (myself, and another who is not family). Together, and with the blessing of the woodland owner (also not related) we are creating a more biologically thriving woodland. By any realistic measure we are doing no harm, we are doing good, and we are successful. I could choose to employ my sister instead but this would be a disaster! I have no children to pass the business down too, it is enough for me to hope to find someone similar to carry on the work. I may well have already found this person. Mine is not in any way a family business. There is also the point that many family businesses could well be argued to not be working optimally for all those associated with the business. That is to say that the business could produce much more net 'good' if it were structured differently. Families often do well financially in family businesses, but this doesn't always trickle down through the business as a whole, especially when nepotism dictates that an offspring takes on control who may not share the ethics of their parent. My apprentice earns more than me, he needs to. Many would see this as a bad business structure but it really isn't. I am lucky enough to have found a job I enjoy. My circumstances are such that I need less income than my trainee. We are still successful, everyone involved in the venture is happy. You don't necessarily need to structure your business in one particular way to materialise success. I'm not arguing that family businesses don't work, just questioning the fact that they are the only types that really can. I am also sceptical about pride being the prime motivator and driver for business success. Pride can result in good outcomes but it can also go badly astray. Pride is certainly motivating but it needs to be constantly calibrated. I guess that one's position on this differs greatly in how one defines success, and how far you extend that definition through the company as a whole. A company may well last longer if it is a 'family business', and I suppose that could be measured as an indicator of success, but I don't think it is a true holistic measure. I don't know the facts on this. Maybe, on average, family businesses work better than non family businesses. This could very well be the case, but I don't think it's as black and white as you are suggesting. Naming some family firms that have been successful isn't enough to prove the point. I certainly agree with you on the 'maximising shareholder return' point. This can be a very damaging function of the system. As is stock trading. I personally think that whenever somebody buys stock they should also be obligated to take delivery of it. This would instantly stop the volatility and craziness. The average amount of time that stock is held for is 22 seconds! I obviously don't understand the full intricacies of the system, but surely this is crazy, and dangerously far removed from how the real world actually functions?

I agree. Those responsible for the decision making should not be allowed to walk into other management positions that affect people's lives as they have proven themselves totally unsuitable. My fear is that things like this will continue to happen whilst society continues to glorify big business. Continually growing a business past any reasonable point is often seen as something that should be encouraged and praised. I personally think small is beautiful in the case of almost any business venture. More people do better, wealth and risk is spread. The negative effects of failure are greatly diminished. We are constantly told however to 'think big'. Maybe we would be better 'thinking small' and making a damn good job of it?

You're a good man Stihlmadasever, exhibiting human compassion in spite of our socially crippling genetic flaw! The real stoic heroes are the non gingers, politely and discreetly supressing the gag reflex whenever we 'gingerly' venture out into society.

Nice, but slightly overkill for my requirements. I was thinking more along these lines:

OK. Gingers rule. I have a wee confession to make. I too am a ginger (in the beard department). I think I must be like a closet homosexual who hates other homosexuals because they themselves are homosexual. But in a gingery way. Humble apologies to Stihlmadasever. I will seek out the appropriate help. Can you spare any of that factor 5000?

Fu manchu?

Ah. Not quite so good for the picking up and holding side of things. I'm not too bothered about splintering. I'll probably only need to split about 5% of the lengths. The main task will be to pick up the 4mtr lengths, slew them around, and hold them off the ground for crosscutting. A traditional timber grab will have too much sway, and I am struggling to find a fixed grab machine to hire. Also the fixed grab would not have any splitting capability.

What's a pecker?