A retired doctor in yonder Oxfordshire has won an award for Britain's best lawn.
His is 200 yards long and he tends it eight hours a day, utilising an array of tractors and mowers.
Until last week, I'd an array of two. I made the mistake of buying an electric mower, after years of happy service from a hand-powered machine.
You can quote me on this: Satan loves noisy garden implements.
Supposedly quiet suburbs turn into aural enactments of Armageddon every Sunday. And that's just one man with a hedge trimmer.
My electric mower took eight days to assemble and 20 minutes to ruin my grass. A man in my position can't be seen selling things on eBay, so I took it to the recycling centre and dumped it.
In my small demesne, the trusty hand mower once more does the job. And the peaceful whirr of its twirling blades soothes the sensitive earlobe.