Chainsaw Massacre

The perfect peace of the riverbank is today shattered. There’s a man up my tree wielding a chainsaw. It’s very noisy.

Going...

I had grown rather attached to the willow, beneath which I moor, despite it shedding its leaves onto Hobo’s roof making an almighty mess for me to clean up (and destroying the paintwork if I don’t). Like a whomping willow, it took pleasure in attacking me whenever I moved the boat but I forgave it that too.

Its branches used to dangle down outside my bedroom, like a sort of hanging garden beyond the porthole; my first view of the outside world each morning when I popped out the cushion. It’s was a pretty tree and I like trees. Mr. Kingfisher used to perch on its branch – the one I used to be able to see from my chair in the lounge. Now where’s he going to sit?

...going

But I accept it is old and unstable (hence my affinity with it no doubt) and needs a trim. It is being pollarded as I type. I learned today that it once fell over during a storm but was pulled back up again – there’s a scary thought – so perhaps it is a necessary evil to ensure it remains rooted in the bank. I would hate Hobo to be squashed….

Naturally this activity has necessitated a move. Hobo has been hauled downstream, barely a boat’s length, so my view is changed – just a little. I shall pretend I am on holiday while I am adrift – I am tied up of course but unable to get ashore – and make the most of it. I’m not sure how long this haircut will take but I will hopefully be back “home” again before long.

In the meantime I am planning a thorough roof cleaning session, safe in the knowledge that it, for once, might last for more than a day. I have a sneaky feeling though that the ducks might move in, spotting a nice clear runway for the use of, and leaving even nastier and more corrosive deposits. Not to mention how noisy this will be – imagine a herd of ducks running about on a metal roof – believe me, it’s quite something.

And now, some three and a half hours down the line, the job is done, the massacre over.  I am re-installed in my usual spot and peace is restored. But it’s going to take a bit of getting used to…..

Looks like rape to me.

Gone

Tags: perfect peace, whomping willow