I have lived in this house for over seven years. I doesn't seem like it has been that long, but it has been long enough that I have replaced the water line, the air conditioner and heater, the garage door and opener, the garbage disposer, and the kitchen sink. I have even painted a couple of rooms. After seven years of hating the shrubs lining the front of my house, I finally put them out of my misery.
I had Saturday off work to celebrate Veteran's Day. So after a shorter than usual sleep on Friday, I grabbed my shovel, hatchet, and saw and declared war on the plant life on my property. I started the battle in the backyard. Through laziness and negligence, I had allow trees to grow under, over and through the chain link fence that guards the borders of my kingdom. I didn't think to take a before picture of the fence line before starting, so an after picture now would not adequately convey the changes to the landscape. I'll just say that nearly every plant near the fence and taller than six inches has been removed.
After the unconditional surrender in the west, I took my engines of war to the front yard. I backtracked Sherman's march, starting in the south and heading north. I vanquished all of my foes from the corner of the house to the front porch. There the combined strain from 8 hours at work and 4 hours in the trenches caught up with me. The remaining shrubs received a stay of execution for the day. I went inside and died of exhaustation.
Even though I lost my memory when I died of exhaustation, I resumed my war on bushes Saturday. These remaining shrubs put up more of a fight than their comrades did the previous day. They were dug in deep between the wall and the sidewalk. There was less maneuverability fighting in those close quarters, but at last I was able to prevail. Then it was time to drag all the slain bodies of my foes to edge of the street where some municipal worker will dispose of the bodies in an environmentally friendly way. I would have preferred to burn them like the afore mentioned Sherman. Though I would not trust the lack of water pressure from my garden hose to guarantee my safety. The pile of debris is one that you couldn't run and jump over.
Because I have spent the last few months on Lusitania, I wondered if these plants were Ramen or Varelse. I decided they must be Djur, so that I could commit xenocide with a clear conscience. Yes I realize that probably only Susan gets this reference, but it needed to be included anyway. Read a book!
