BBH report 381

The BBH in the title stands for Blueberry Hill, which is what I have taken to calling my place here.

The day had arrived for the cleaning out and cutting back of the shrubbery. They indeed were looking very scraggly and unkempt, plus the Spice of my life had mentioned in no uncertain terms that I needed to do something before the house became overgrown. Last year I had just hit them with “a lick and a promise” but now major work was necessary.

To make this situation worse, the front row has very prickly leaves – some type of holly I think. The green leaves of these are bad enough but the dried ones are like needles, going right through my gloves if they are grasped wrong. Wild blackberries had invaded also and had to be dealt with on top of all this. The handling of the residue brought to mind the scripture about having a thorn in the flesh – in a literal sense – in my case it was a multitude of punctures.

It has been stated that nature abhors a vacuum, and although none was apparent, several things besides shrubs were in residence in the bed. There was no way of telling how the seeds got there, but I had to dig up a mimosa, an oak, a sweet gum and one I was unable to identify that reminded me of a crabapple. Thankfully all these were still fairly small or it really would have been a major earth-moving project.

Around the corner was a small wild cherry (or Carolina cherry) that had to be dug out as well. This tree is good for nothing except producing berries for birds and for making a mess on driveways and sidewalks. Also dug up was a muscadine vine and various other briars and brambles. It took three loads in my large garden cart, full to the brim, to carry away the cuttings, trimmings and up diggings.

It makes me wonder if I need some spiritual trimming and pruning – I need to ask Someone about that. ec