How much wood can a woodchipper chuck

Today I have the body of an 85-year old woman. I ache in 1001 places and I lay the blame for this fully on our septic tank.

Our new septic tank that is, recently installed after the old one kacked itself three weeks ago and the less said about the health and safety issues and the utter inconvenience that caused, the better.

[boring explanation] Part of the council requirements for the new system is that the 300 metres worth of hose (which now twists like giant purple spaghetti under a stand of tall trees to the right of our house) for the thrice-circulated and almost pure run-off water that the tank produces after it has done its bit has to have lots and lots of mulch laid over it to prevent weeds and discourage evaporation.[/boring explanation and queue yawn]

So myself and Other Harf spent all day Saturday stacking piles of wood in the paddock next door, and yesterday we hired a humungous woodchipper (forget one body part at a time as per the pissant little woodchipper in Fargo; you could put a whole carcass in this one) and spent seven hours annihilating the pile to slivers and shovelling it over the hoses.

The whole area looks much prettier and tidier and there is now the gorgeous aroma of freshly chipped wood wafting everywhere just like one of those car fresheners that swing off your rearvision mirror, but I was that bloody knackered last night I couldn't even lift a finger to press the on-button on my laptop. Wah!

And the Other Harf could certainly have done with a hoist to lever himself out of bed this morning, the poor love.

Sometimes this rural living can really age a person.