Overcoming my initial fear of heights I went up for the first cut. It was damn difficult as I was getting scratched to high heaven by all the surrounding twigs and branches. Prickly little fuckers! But once I'd got some of them out the way the cutting proper was swift and merciless. The first cut is the deepest as the saying goes. Took me two journeys to chop down the first part of the main trunk. Barely had time to alert Parsley as a huge branch replete with slapping leaves came hurtling down towards her; not so much as a TIIIM BURTON! Had a second go at it after that, cutting off another 2 feet approx.
The other branches were much easier, although by now I was getting cocky and there were flying branches knocking off stone bird baths and ivy. 'Push it towards the dome!' or 'Not towards the arrch!' screamed Parsley. Well she didn't scream but she could've done.
Once the main body had been cut (we surveyed from upstairs to get the lowdown), I went up again to trim off the rogue bits and dismantle a pigeons nest. Don't worry no chicks this time of year. Then Parsley did the nice cosmetic part, tidying it up so it didn't look like topiary gone hideously wrong. Ten bags of cuttings and a couple of trunks later we sat down to sup Polish lager and a bottle of wine that could rip the varnish off floorboards. Cheers Bargain (B)ooze. Cheers.
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