I grew up in Montana and Wyoming where when it was near mid to late September, the leaves began to change colors and fall from the trees. This was always my favorite time of year. I loved the cold, the crisp feeling on my cheeks in the fall. We knew it was only a matter of weeks before the first snow would fall. Only a matter of weeks people..before the snow would fall.
Forward...I now live in Sacramento, CA. It is proudly considered "the city of trees". It is November 9th and I still have roses and dahlias blooming..and roma tomatoes ripening!!
I am fricken miserable due to the falling leaves. I shouldn't have to be..but due to my neighbor on my left..and my neighbor across the street...they are not at all happy about our huge, lovely silver elm tree losing its' leaves. They are totally obsessed with keeping ANY leaves off of their lawns. Crap...we should have bought a place down the street..where all of the homes have tons of leaves in their yards. Who does not love the crackle sound of leaves when you walk?
So...my neighbors come over to our lawn and blow our leaves into a pile onto the street..because they don't want one leaf in their yard. Both neighbors have given us names of people who would cut our tree down for cheap. Hello? This huge tree keeps our house cool in Sacramento's very very hot summers! We did pay a reputable tree company, last spring, to cut down three huge branches that may have, somehow, in a strange and never been before storm..hurt their property. It was expensive. They are still not happy..and they let us know.
So, today...I went out and blew fricken leaves for two hours. I blew them the hell out of both anal-type neighbors yards. I had this huge pile in the street..which the county picks up weekly..and I watered it down so it would not blow around to their yards. We also pay our own Gardener, once weekly, to do the same. Are they happy?
You know the answer. Geez...they are only leaves people!!
1 comment:
Well, now everyone is going to know who MAL's anonymous letter-writer is! Don't cut it down, it's a tree for gosh sakes, not a marauding band of robbers who live in your front yard. Next time they give you a name of a tree-cutter, give them a card for a therapist.
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