“Router bits?”
This is my mother.
“What are they? What are you going to do with them?”
Something I had actually been wondering myself. They were a bargain (honestly) at the local Aldi – or so I impulsively thought, having visions of, of … well routing … obviously. They were just glittering and sparkling like something a little arcane from Abanazar’s cave.
“You? You’re not in the least bit practical minded!”
This is the kind of encouragement guaranteed to give your off spring confidence, build their self-esteem. More please.
In truth I have always been a fix things together with a straightened nine inch nail hit home with a rounded stone kind of craftsman ( the Palaeolithic type I guess, though it never caught on).
But having moved large amounts of brash and transported barrows full of nutrient exhausted, but very fine soil in the process of renewing/saving/repairing a hedge…
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