peds

Nationality be damned, British born and bred here, though I describe myself as European, not British. I wouldn’t take up anyone's arms as a result of conscription, least of all King Sausage Fingers the Third and his non-extended family of elaborately-chinned circus freaks. If the cause for war was justified I'd happily volunteer, but purely out of principle I'd be among the white feather brigade if His Royal Charliness was ever tempted to make yet another gargantuan effort to move his drinks cabinet six inches closer to Berlin. And yes, I'd still happily use the NHS.

I've had worse views too.

Eh... being under nominal control of the British crown for a few hundred years doesn't make it British... Ireland has never been British, and there's a good few people out there who'd be pretty upset to hear the situation dumbed down to that kind of soundbite. That's probably for a different thread though. Weren't we talking about measles?

Oui chef

As a leftie, both politically and dexterously, I always try to shoehorn my own sinister agenda in wherever possible. Leftiness has been repeatedly observed in squirrels (handedness, of course... we all know that squirrels are famously fascistic in their political views), who reliably use one hand for picking up nuts and the other to manipulate it, every time. I wonder what percentage split of the population would be. So that's an interesting question about the flint tools, at what point in our history did the 50/50 split start to unbalance... was there any significant degree of physical persecution to the extent that the lefty gene became more rare, or was it mostly just social pressures that swayed the scale. It's only in the last few decades that leftiness has become tolerated in schools, I'm sure some of the more distinguished members of the congregation will have memories of their left hand being tied behind their back at school, or maybe even a lick of the cane... Being left-handed, I found it tricky enough to get to grips with using a chainsaw at first. Solved that problem by just putting the chain on backwards. 👍

I get what you're saying, but if my life schedule doesn't allow for that kind of coordination, it's not going to buy a rollaway awning for the campervan and a load of decking timber. I enjoy the flexibility of being a 1-man-band, and not having to worry about anyone else. As it happens, it was 7 days of simple and fun climbing (5 on sycamore, 2 on a bunch of spruce at the other end of the garden), 2 days of graft with a tracked chipper, and 2 days of pottering about in the sunshine, sheet mulching apple trees and stacking firewood. Had to pause for 2 days thanks to Storms Isha and Jocelyn, I've done planting for forestry in an orange weather warning before, but I didn't fancy climbing in it. So 2 up, 2 down; 3 days for 4 guys; around 12 days in total. Maybe I'll stick around for another day pruning blackcurrant bushes to add one more to my 11. Sure, it takes longer, but I wouldn't call it inefficient.

There have always been people on the spectrum, there have always been bendy genders (of most observed species), there have always been albinos, there have always been lefties; all in roughly the same proportion of the population since humans became humans. Allergies, though. Loads more of those around.

Adorable!

If you are scattering wildflower seeds, don't bother tilling. They prefer it a bit rough and ready.

arbtalk.co.uk, 2034. A recent emigre Brit arborist trying to make his way in France starts a thread asking for advice on what to do with an oak tree that was "pollarded" 20 years ago. He can't afford a hover mewp or a drone saw, and he isn't sure about climbing above the new growth points to trim it back down. "That isn't a pollard," comes the first reply. "It's a very tall coppice job." "Just tie all the new leaders together and anchor off them, there's strength in numbers." the second reply follows. "How tall is your ladder?" asks the third commenter. Mick Dempsey, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips, leans back in his chair and takes a sip of crisp white wine, nodding contentedly. "La grande roue continue de tourner..."

Nothing wrong with that. I often recommend it.

Looking good dude. Glad to hear of progress, however small you think it is. Mental that we can just grow new bits of bone like that.

French town squares with neat rows of repeat pollards are stunning. Great way of keeping big trees in urban spaces. Can't find a picture after 30 seconds on Google that isn't a carpark, but just imagine a vibrant market with pretty little cafes and a fountain instead.

I could never side with the idea of keeping a laurel unless someone buried a beloved family pet or conceived their firstborn under it. They are an ecological disaster, contributing absolutely nothing to their environment - not even an annual leafdrop for either compost or humus. They are hugely effective as an evergreen hedge, I'll grant them that, but that's all your shrub is... an escaped hedge. Again, sorry if it has some attached sentimental value, but if the last remaining "tree" on your road is this sorry little thing, then you need to get some more in the ground ASAP. If you are really that bothered with that specific plant, you could dig it out of the ground with a digger and place it wherever, give it a bit of a haircut (ideally down to ground level...), and it'll probably just shrug it off. This'll give its neighbour to the right there a bit more light as well... what is that one, by the way? He might be a bit close to the fence, and the house, too... (Edit: the bark looks a little beechy to me...)

I'm all for keeping trees where they are whenever possible, especially if they've got sentimental value... but it's a bleeding laurel... get rid of it, replace the fence, plant something better in the right place. Horrible things.

"Future work" should only be the wrong tree planted in exciting places, not leaving extant trees in a sorry state. Scatter acorns in your wake instead of poplar pollards.

Choked slings around the stem for feet for sure, and if you don't want to teeter around on top of it, go underneath it. Takes some getting used to.

Bump. Got bar oil on the working end today, it's in the machine at 40, daisy chained in a mesh bag. I'll use the other end for a bit anyway, it was about due for swapping. Anyone got any amusing rope washing anecdotes? Edit: oh shit, should I have taken the zigzag off first?

A thought suddenly came to me... I wonder if a thin layer of tar coating the inside of your lungs would help prevent transmission of airborne plastic particles into the blood.

I never implied fighting, I implied breeding for profit. And your friend's sales tactic of buy three get one free is a shitty thing to do and you are a shitty human being for considering facilitating it. Boils my piss.

Oh, he's back.

Is it from the same home that had 8 Australian shepherds for sale back in November, or is this a different friend of yours with questionable involvement in dogs? Without hearing more details, my gut feeling tells me that none of you should have dogs. Try guinea pigs instead. Delicious.

Some of those big pallet crates you can cut away a few slats at the bottom and fish the logs out that way, instead of out of the top. (Edit: don't remove so much that it reduces the structural integrity to collapse though!)

Eating, drinking, and breathing microplastics every minute of the day probably isn't helping.