Garden: on rage

I am a bit of a rage-gardener. By that I mean that I really enjoy the destructive parts of gardening: taking out that shrub! Cutting that tree-branch so it’s not interfering with the washing machine! Clipping back the wild fennel on the road-edge of our property (our property is up a council-owned bank from the road, and nobody has given it any love in a very long time – not the bank nor the house, in fact)! So far Field and I have clipped back maybe 1.5 cubic metres of random things from around the section, and there’s a lot more to go.

For one thing, we have a Hedge of Doom. The Hedge of Doom is in the back left corner of the property, and takes up about as much space as a single garage. I strongly suspect that when it’s gone the whole backyard will be much sunnier (which will be very good for the washing line). It’s a twiggy, brittle thing, really only green on one side (and presumably on top, but I can’t see that), and hollowed-out in the centre. If we had kids, it’d be a good play area, but as it is we want that spot for the eventual vegetable garden we’re planning, so the Hedge of Doom must go.

And it’s sunny in Tawa today, and I’ve got awesome hedgeclippers and long-handled, sharp, heavy secateurs, and if I had anywhere to put the giant pile of green waste that would result, I’d be out there right now, hacking away while listening to Elvis Costello or maybe Neko Case. Or Apocalyptica; a girl has to have options, after all.

But instead I am very determindly restraining myself until I’ve organised a trailer or a skip (probably a skip; trailers are way cheaper in terms of tip fees, but we’d need to hire a trailer and find someone to drive it, so) and therefore have dates upon which the pile of Doom Hedge can leave the place. I wonder how pohutukawa take to being pruned? Probably I should consult an arborist with that; the pohutukawa in the back yard is a good 2 stories high.

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