It's a Multi-athlon out there. The events include: Compost Pile Turning, Rabbit Hunting, All Terrain Mower Repairing, Hose Pipe Wrangling, Weeding, Tying Up Climbers, Mowing, Moaning and Groaning, and the least pleasant event of all is the Eleventh Event. This last event is more psychological than it is like maybe running a marathon, and yet I think probably anyone who might be persuaded to waste their energy running a marathon, should first prepare themselves mentally for the feat by testing themselves against the Eleventh Event.
And it's not just any old Mole, it's one particular Mole, from the tribe of Head
Hunting Moles that some generations ago must have taken up residence here where
I live. So don't tell me, "Oh! It's Just A Mole." This is no ordinary
Mole. We're talking the Magnus Carlsen of Moles. We're talking the Genghis Khan
of Moles. This Mole has fiendish cunning, and he's very spiteful, and it's very
obvious to me that he takes huge pleasure in being completely and totally
obnoxious. Kind of have to admire him, I suppose.