Confession time.

The nesting season is over, so it was time to get the hedge trimmers out and bring our unruly front privet/beech hedge back into a semblance of order, get a bit more light in the garden and make it easier for pedestrians to use the narrow pavement outside. I unfurled the cable, plugged in and started cutting but after a minute or so, the trimmers stopped. I checked to see if there were any obstructions, there weren’t, but the trimmers kept cutting out about every 60 seconds.

Reader, I nearly went to B&Q to buy a replacement set.

But before I set off, I thought “I better check if there’s a guy on YouTube who could help.” Of course there was – there is always a guy on YouTube. YouTube Guy methodically dismantled a rusty old set of trimmers, patiently explaining each part, and put them back together. I had images of lots of cryptic components strewn across my kitchen table, never to be reunited, but the last thing YouTube Guy said was “I’ll just lube the blades with a light engine oil – I’ll do this every time I use them.”

Okaaaay, I thought, lube. I’ll start there – no weird screws, degreasing or tiny yet essential components making a break for freedom. So I grabbed some bike chain lube and applied it to the blades. After letting it soak in for a couple of minutes, I tried them again. They cut out after about 2 minutes this time, but fired up again at my next attempt and worked perfectly as the lube did its thing. Hedge cut. A couple of pence worth of lube saved me and the environment the cost of a new set of hedge trimmers.

My sense of satisfaction was swamped by a wave of shame. I’m an engineer – lubricating moving metal parts should have been an obvious first step to me. I’m an environmentalist, so why was I so close to seeing replacement as option 1 rather than the last resort? How did I get drawn into the disposable product mindset so easily? I, we, need to be more YouTube Guy. It struck me that he was riding two horses at once: old-fashioned pride in fixing and maintaining things, and using all the digital benefits of the internet age.

But now I’ve got a new repair dilemma. 40% of the family went camping last week, borrowing my lightweight one man tent. It came home with a broken zip. The manufacturer, Alpkit, will replace the zip for £80, compared to the new tent price of £150. The tent is about five years old, has had lots of wear and tear and a couple of minor repairs (none due to my use!) According to google, a typical tent will last 5-10 years (some say 8) before the materials start to lose their integrity. Do I squeeze a couple more years use out of those resources, or give up and start the clock again? Hmmm…