A Hatchet Job.

So the human female arrived home yesterday to find thatsomeone had butchered off about a third of her beloved purple-flowered Vitex that grows out by the curb. She had been meaning to prune it back because, really, it was sort of impinging on the roadway, even though it wasn’t actually blocking the fireplug, the mailbox, or any utilities.

Whoever did it did a terrifically terrible job–big ugly stubs, sharp ends, shape completely ruined.

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Isn’t this gloriously wretched? It looks like every “wrong way” illustration in every book on pruning ever written!

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She called the City to inquire whether their goon squad did the dirty deed, but the kind woman on the phone disavowed all knowledge and suggested that perhaps the human female has a “rogue neighbor.” Ehehehehe! “Rogue neighbor!” Those were her exact words. She needs to look a little closer to home.

The human female has finally ceased wailing and is now gathering tools to try to do a little remedial pruning. Drat! She found where I hid the pruning saw. Now she’s searching for gloves. One, leather, left. One, cotton, left. Another, cotton, also left.

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Please note also that her ancient Felco No. 2 pruners no longer latch shut (I threw away that bit) and that I have picked off a good chunk of the soft grippy bits of the saw’s handle. It’s mid-morning on what is supposed to be a vacation day, the day is building into a scorcher, and she has her job cut out for her. There’s nothing for it but to put on one of the cotton gloves backwards and have at it.

….Later…

I have to give her points. She’s a stubborn little thing. She did it. She tidied up the poor shrub, then did a bit of deadwood-removal on another shrub, and cut down some gone-to seed perennials. Then she tackled the grass in the joints of the front walk. I kept urging her to do just a little more, knowing full well she wasn’t wearing sunscreen and was aggravating her bum elbow. Now she’s red, sweaty, muddy, smelly, and sore– and her “day off” is half over. Not to mention she has an enormous blister on her right hand.

And I think we may need a fourth left glove.

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Next on my list: herbicide granules in the fertilizer bucket…

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