The high drone with mosquito-like insistence heralds summer mornings in the suburbs. Swarms of garden elves are firing up.
“All I want for Christmas… is my neighbour’s whipper snipper to die!”
– the accident and emergency doctor’s wife.
Further north the sentiments are more explicit:
“Neighbour getting busy with his mowing and whipper snippering right outside my bedroom window.
It is Sunday morning for fucks sake.”
– a primary school teacher who has been on holidays for over a week.
Neighbourhood tensions. A natural by-product of having a list of things that simply need doing.
Two days before Christmas.
Peace on earth.