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Killer plants...
And you thought roses, or mesquite trees, were dangerous.
Wimps, all of them.
Some idiot (probably the same idiot who planted a fat juniper next to the pool, or photinas next to the pool, or a lombardy cypress under the eaves) planted not one but TWO, count 'em, TWO palms next to the pool -- within three feet of each other -- ramming up against the privacy fence, shielding Bermuda grass (and also killing it, huzzah) -- and this palm has thorns.
How big are the thorns, do you say?
Picture the teeth on a Great White Shark. Yes -- that big, that sharp, just getting bumped by the end of one of those thorns is an introduction into tribal scarification. (We're talking the city refuses to take this stuff in the brushy clean-up.)
It's a Mexican Palm, or a Mediterranean Palm, or a Texas Sabal, or a Chinese Palm -- something like that. I know there's over 600 varieties, so who knows? I bought it palm food, because if there is the remotest chance that something will survive, I'll give it a hand. (That's why the hated Photinias are alive -- I cut or had them cut back so they don't drip into the pool when it rains.) Eventually, these palms will have dead and dying fronds pressed against their trunks. And here is why I let the palms live -- some species of bats sleep under dead fan fronds! But the obsessive tidying of these trees at resorts, etc. is reducing nesting potential for the bats.
When the palms are tall enough that they do not knock people into the pool, and the fronds can lay against the trunk, they will have my blessing*. In the meantime, I go and cut off dead fronds and low-hanging fronds and....
My hands are killing me, and my back hurts. Also, I'm exhausted. It's taken me two hours to think I'll make it to the Daily Show.
When I am smart enough to post a pic of the palms, I will do so.
* The palms have to promise not to bother![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oliana0 or the clippers come out. She has a bad record with dead fronds.
In other news, I started Chapter 3 of the new Alfreda novel, SPIRIT TRACKS. Now that I'm done whining, I will heat some water for tea and return to the dining room. Yes, Allie is about to meet some of her fellow students -- on Saturday, the day everyone who has been disciplined during the week has to make the meals. She just ate 4 scones during her private meeting with Cousin Esme, so if there's nothing edible in the dining room, she can brew some tea and say she couldn't touch another bite.
Wimps, all of them.
Some idiot (probably the same idiot who planted a fat juniper next to the pool, or photinas next to the pool, or a lombardy cypress under the eaves) planted not one but TWO, count 'em, TWO palms next to the pool -- within three feet of each other -- ramming up against the privacy fence, shielding Bermuda grass (and also killing it, huzzah) -- and this palm has thorns.
How big are the thorns, do you say?
Picture the teeth on a Great White Shark. Yes -- that big, that sharp, just getting bumped by the end of one of those thorns is an introduction into tribal scarification. (We're talking the city refuses to take this stuff in the brushy clean-up.)
It's a Mexican Palm, or a Mediterranean Palm, or a Texas Sabal, or a Chinese Palm -- something like that. I know there's over 600 varieties, so who knows? I bought it palm food, because if there is the remotest chance that something will survive, I'll give it a hand. (That's why the hated Photinias are alive -- I cut or had them cut back so they don't drip into the pool when it rains.) Eventually, these palms will have dead and dying fronds pressed against their trunks. And here is why I let the palms live -- some species of bats sleep under dead fan fronds! But the obsessive tidying of these trees at resorts, etc. is reducing nesting potential for the bats.
When the palms are tall enough that they do not knock people into the pool, and the fronds can lay against the trunk, they will have my blessing*. In the meantime, I go and cut off dead fronds and low-hanging fronds and....
My hands are killing me, and my back hurts. Also, I'm exhausted. It's taken me two hours to think I'll make it to the Daily Show.
When I am smart enough to post a pic of the palms, I will do so.
* The palms have to promise not to bother
oliana0 or the clippers come out. She has a bad record with dead fronds.In other news, I started Chapter 3 of the new Alfreda novel, SPIRIT TRACKS. Now that I'm done whining, I will heat some water for tea and return to the dining room. Yes, Allie is about to meet some of her fellow students -- on Saturday, the day everyone who has been disciplined during the week has to make the meals. She just ate 4 scones during her private meeting with Cousin Esme, so if there's nothing edible in the dining room, she can brew some tea and say she couldn't touch another bite.
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Less than 3' by 3' space. Like I said, it has a temporary pass.
Kinda like me threatening the white crepe myrtles.
"White? I hate white crepe myrtles. They never shed their dead flowers; they look soiled and dirty. They're usually boring. They hide baby hack berries!"
"I'll probably cut them down and plant red ones...."
The white crepe myrtles' response?
BLOOM!
Best flowering tree show in the neighborhood, against stiff competition. So...we're temporarily in a no-kill crepe myrtle zone.
But the baby hack berry (4 feet tall, hiding inside CM boughs & flowers) is history. I keep snipping off the copse starts.)