Haircuts and Transplants
And i thought MOWING the lawn was satisfying. Bah!
We had the fire going for several hours. We’d rented a chainsaw earlier in the day and CLH cut up the old Christmas tree and the who-knows-what-other-kinds-of-tree stumps we found in the many “refuse” piles in the yard. (By the way, lawn chairs don’t compost, so don’t fucking add to the piles of organic stuff, mkay?) We had a pretty sizable pile of junk wood going- weirdly shaped roots and dried out thin crispy boughs and stuff, so we got a burn pile going and lit it up. We’d burned most of the blackberries we’d wanted gone (they’re noxious, but delicious, weeds here), and we were just relaxing after a long day’s work, looking around the yard for other stuff to burn (the lawn chair almost made it in) when CLH remembered the spider condos. We both got a gleam in our eyes, grabbed the saw and shovel, and practically ran to the front of the house. By this time the rain was coming pretty steadily. Nothing too heavy- just enough to make all the dirt stick to our clothes. We looked like chocolate bunnies when we were done, but we didn’t care. The spider condos were on their way to a fiery grave. I didn’t leave the fire until every last inch of them had turned to ash.
There was something indescribably wonderful about burning all the crap that wouldn’t stack in the pile. It was one part necessity, and one part ceremony. We, without adding to already stuffed compost bin we’d built, or the bulging yard waste container, got rid of the yuck, AND we rid our house of yet one more reminder of the rampant neglect that shows up everywhere here. Even plants can use a funeral pyre. Sure, we could have shoved the things into a wood chipper- but that would have seemed overly brutal and mechanical. The slow burn approach seemed a bit more … noble (even if i WAS doing it with a little bit of sadistic glee in my heart). CLH and I transplanted some lavender and sage plants from the backyard (where they were also looking gnarled and spindly from not being trimmed) to the spot the spider condos had been. The rain came down harder later that night, so we didn’t even have to water them. Now, instead of having our ankles raked by the tendrils of a dying old bush as we walk by, we will be greeted by the soothing (dare I say, therapeutic?) smells of lavender and sage. Ahhhhhh…. I feel calmer already.