Sisyphus with a brooom.

                                        





My paternal ancestors were Scottish Borderers from Yetholme, and even though I have never felt the urge to steal my neighbour's cattle or rape my neighbour's wife (although, perhaps if she were more attractive.....), I have inherited some of the Border Reiver's characteristics - insularity, independence, loyalty and wariness of strangers.

I have spent most of my life on large rural properties, my nearest neighbours several miles away. Retirement to a house on a 637 square metre block has taken some adjustment.
Before the ravages of time started mucking about with my prostate, I could have pissed on my neighbour's verandah from our front deck (just sayin'), the point being that a screen for privacy was a priority.

The idea of a big, beautiful wall had been promulgated and rejected overseas, so my lovely wife and I decided to plant a border of fast growing small trees.




Eleven years later, after natural attrition and judicious culling, there are two survivors: a Syzygium paniculatum and a Calliandra haematocephala.    

Syzigium paniculatum , known as the magenta lillypilly, is a dense native rainforest tree native to New South Wales.

                                      


Calliandra Haematocephala , commonly called red powder puff, is an evergreen small tree native to Bolivia.




So what? you might quite reasonably say.

So what is that the pretty trees shed their flowers and seeds like confetti at a gay wedding.     
Sweeping the driveway is a twice-a-day job.

I now have forearms like Arnie Schwarzenegger.

I look like Popeye with anorexia.                    


     


 











                                                                                               k
                               


        



Comments

Herajasa said…
This time of year, my porch gets showered with small "helicopters" from the maple tree out front - dull, with none of the festive pageantry which covers your driveway.
Most years, my typical strategy has been to do nothing but complain about them. This year, for some unknown reason, I've taken to sweeping them off the porch, almost daily - while still complaining about them.
Since I complain about them either way, I'm thinking about reverting back to my original technique. It's less work, and oddly, more satisfying.
Ben Clibrig said…
I like the way you're thinking!