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May 14, 1999 |
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bittersweet delenda est |
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May 12, 1999 May 14, 1999 Reading: Black Lamb and Grey Falcon by Rebecca West, The Boy Allies with Haig in Flanders by Clair Hayes, Salt Tide by Christopher J. Badger
Copyright © 1999, Janet I. Egan |
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I bought a 13" pruning saw this morning and declared war on bittersweet. Also bought a small shovel in case I need to dig anything up by its roots. The saw is a really mean looking device having a curved blade and double rows of teeth. Holding it in my hand, I feel equipped for the battle. Hah! I sawed away for about two hours with my nose running and my eyes itching in the heat of midday. Finally, I packed up the prunings in a garbage bag and hauled them to the dumpster and headed off to Starbucks to look for coffee buddies and then Plum Island to look for warblers. Had coffee. Didn't find any of the usual suspects - it was kind of late for them. Found warblers. The common yellowthroats were putting on a courtship display - the males were making themselves conspicuous flitting from ground to branch and back again and pumping their tails madly. Back at the condo I hacked away at the bittersweet some more with my really mean-looking saw. I cut away enough of it from the fence and around my illegal maple tree that it revealed to my horror another ailanthus tree, which I quickly sawed down to the ground even though that only slows it down. I had some intention of cutting down the maple tree to please the garden club, but my next door neighbor and the busybody neighbor who weed-whacked my lawn on Tuesday both said they like the maple tree and think I should keep it. One of them has joined the landscape committee so maybe they can put in a good word for my tree. I liked sawing so much that I took on the ailanthus tree that has been trying to separate my porch from the house. I hacked it pretty good in the fall but it was beginning to get new growth so I sawed it down to the merest nubbin as close to the ground as I could get. It's wedged in between the porch and the fence so it was kind of a weird angle for getting a good bite with the saw, but I persevered. The next door neighbor and the busybody neighbor came over to supervise and to tell me how much better my yard looked. The problem is that the busybody says it in a way that makes me feel like she's condescending to me. On Tuesday she had the next door neighbor, me, the Scottish lady, and the Russian lady all frantically doing yard work. The next door neighbor was home sick from work but was out there in her flannel pajamas raking away. It was like a collective manic episode. The next door neighbor doesn't seem to wear regular clothes. She has 12 different pairs of flannel pajamas. Tuesday she had on multicolored ones. Wednesday she had on blue plaid ones as she stood out on the front steps with the busybody and critiqued the lilac bushes. Her little white dog was out there too. The one Wilbur wants to kill. Every time the woman opens the door to the hallway, the little white dog barks and comes over to sniff my door. Wilbur bolts from wherever he is and crouches on full alert with teeth bared and tail wagging in front of the door. If he ever gets loose that little dog is doomed. So I went downstairs and out onto the front steps to meet the dog. Turns out it's a Bichon Frise named Chantel. Oh too bad, Nancy and I had been referring to it as "Carthage" as in "Carthago delenda est" because of Wilbur's unreasonable desire to destroy it. Yesterday the next door neighbor actually wen to work. I did not see whether she wore flannel pajamas to work. Today she was home sick again, and in pajamas. Other than the pajamas, the little white dog, and an obsession with gardening she seems nice enough. When she emerged wearing normal clothes for a grocery run, she asked what I was doing. I replied "Bittersweet must be destroyed!" Bittersweet delenda est!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! |
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