There comes a time in ones life when one has to take stock and make the kind of decision most of us would rather not do, if only because it reflects one unending truth about life i.e. we get older , slower, less agile and less assured about ones capabilities,I say this because I recently completed a task which in hindsight I should probably have left alone given all the above and that I didn't have the kind equipment that would have rendered the task quite straightforward .By that, I mean a mobile platform and a motorized pole cutter to compliment my existing hedge cutters.

The task in question involved the heavy trimming of a massively overgrown Leylandii hedge which was all of 15 ft high by 10 ft wide across the top.The length itself was not an issue but the greenhouse which butted against it was.Such hedges at the very least should be trimmed once year but Mr W, its owner, decided to let it grow for two which meant that the branches standing proudly at the top which needed cutting, were, in several cases, at least 1 inch in diameter.

When I first looked at the hedge my mind was still at the 30-year-old stage and I saw it as a challenge.When I finally finished cutting the bloody thing I quickly came to the conclusion that my body was no longer at that stage of my life.By that time, I was trying to work out what words to use to MR W which might be a politer version of "from now on you can stick your hedge up your arse "

A regular extending ladder was never going be enough especially with that ferking glasshouse in the way so I bought some stabilisers which I attached to it thus transforming it into a de facto very tall step ladder.Fine, except the stabiliser plus ladder, was extremely fiddly and time-consuming to use.The words "boludo, me cago en la puta que lo pario" and whatever English variants I could think of, gushed out of my mouth with complete alacrity.

As time went on I came to the decision that such a ladder was never going to be enough.Fine around the greenhouse provided I took my time and was extra careful, but the rest of the hedge was going to need something a lot more robust i.e. a 12 high double width scaffold tower,(about half the height of thishttp://www.laddersandscaffoldtowers.co.uk/acatalog/Industrial-Scaffold-Towers.html).

I thought assembling it would be a piece of piss and that I could complete the whole job last Friday.WRONG! .I asked the delivery bloke if it was quite straightforward.He gave me a rueful look, took a breath of air and proceeded to explain what to do ending with a "once you have done it once just normally quite simple but I would rather you gave me a ring if you find yourself struggling with it because there is a knack to getting the higher level on top of each other" 

'Nice chap' I thought, but the 30-year-old brain was having none of that.I was going to get that contraption assembled on my own no matter what.Fortunately, I had a step ladder to help me on my endeavours although it still meant raising the side sections to head height but at least.Then the 9 foot long boards, all four of them and as I went so the side poles slotted in.By the time i finished my 62 year old body kicked in and I was totally fooked.No more work for me that day, I decided.

Next day, I roped Nelly in to give us a hand.She were proper good she were, raking all the cuttings, disposing of them and helping me drag the tower along and around the hedge as and when required.For cutting purposes, I used a regular hedge cutter, a long handled hedge cutter, a pair of loppers and a long-handled lopper. All told we spent a good 5-6 hours, at the end of which the end result looked pretty good.Then the dismantling.'Fuck it', I thought, 'I'll do that tomorrow'.That didn't take too long, but it was almost as arduous as assembling it due to the weight and my paranoid fear of dropping a section somewhere unwanted such as a greenhouse.

I have decided to name this day as JC day in honour of the great messiah who will one day return .I say that because the BBC have in fact not sacked him , instead they will not be offering him another contract to present Top Gear.

This means they have left the door ajar for him to return in some other guise which means his followers can salivate in anticipation or beat their bishops if they happen to be male.

Its in light of that, that I have decided that all JC followers should celebrate the great man's life and his deeds by having a meal at a Mexican restaurant ,that is if you can find one . Better still go to Mexico for there are plenty there.
I thought this one would be a good way of honouring him, his co presenters and one of Top Gears most infamous programme .The one in which they likened certain makes of cars to the national character of the particular nations they are made in .Not that they were stereotyping in anyway but it appears that the one made and designed in Mexico ,ie Mastretta MXT , is in their view very like your average Mexican ie “lazy feckless flatulent and likely to fall asleep staring at a cactus”. Excuse me a minute -hahahaha , There i laughed .Hard work but i did manage it

Apparently they cant do food either because its “all like sick with cheese on it”.Now those two comments cant exactly be attributed to JC himself but as all three presenters are in it together , they might as well be , besides he chuckled noticeably as they “discussed” the merits of a car which looks very much like a Lotus Elize but only does about 0-60 in 5 seconds , which is obviously very lazy ,feckless and flatulent.

As an added extra I would change the number plate to one that reads ElAlamo1836 because I cant think of another that might wind Mexicans up.They won that battle but ultimately lost the whole of Texas .
Upon arrival you will disparagingly ask Manuel for a table .I say Manuel because as an avid Top Gear fan you will have decided that all Spanish speaking men are called that .Once seated you will look at the menu and decide that refried beans would be the perfect embodiment of Mexican cuisine .

It is known to them as frijoles refritos , but you wont waste any time in speaking to the natives in their native tongue . Instead you will firmly demand “refried sick with cheese Manuel, and we want it pronto ,capiche?” Manuel has been here before because he has had dealing with many an arrogant gringo so he just pretends not to feel insulted .Instead he makes sure that refried sick is gobbed on repeatedly before serving the dish, which also turns out to be luke warm.

As a committed JC fan and supporter your moment arrives ,the one you have been waiting so you then indulge in a barrage of verbal abuse lasting not less than 20 minutes - ”I asked for hot sick not lukewarm ,you lazy cnut.I wanted sick hot you hear , hot !”

Dont forget to froth at the mouth, stand on your feet, wave arms around in unrelenting fury at the end of which you may deliver a well aimed punch at the scoundrels lip.”Do you know who I am , have you any idea.I am the immeasurably great JC?”. Another punch may be delivered as your colleagues cheer in unison.Its the only thing the natives understand ,you know.

The patron will obviously ask you top leave but dont be too despondent because a petition will be
raised using Change.org into which 1000 people will sign demanding a full apology from the patron, the Mexican government and any Dago that takes your fancy .A years supply of hot sick should be delivered to your doorstep as well.

I hope no ones thinks I am being ironic, heaven forbid.

By the way frijoles refritos are very nice, can be bought at Sainsburys (or other stores) together with other Mexican delights such as guacamole ,enchiladas, burritos and tortillas .Should you be brave enough you could always attempt making a Mole Poblano which is Mexico's national dish.
None of it looks anything like sick with cheese on