Monthly Archives: August 2006

Ah, the almighty palm. I have dubbed mine the almighty “seed” palm for obvious reasons. I have two in front of my house (or rather the city does), and this year seems to be a banner year for them. I don’t know whether it’s because I’ve been watering more, or? But for one reason or another there seems to be a perpetual carpet of hard, yet pulpy, orange seeds on my front walk. Now my footwear of choice is wooden clogs. Imagine, if you will, the tenuous hold I have on keeping my balance when I step on one of these. Picture in your mind a plank with a ball under it, which circus performers sometimes use to show off their balancing skills. This is the situation in which I find myself when stepping on these seeds. “Whooooooooa,” I gasp, starting what looks for a moment like a tightrope walker ready to fall.

The situation has gradually gotten worse over the last couple of months, and looking up into the fronds, I see that the palm’s fecundity seems to have no bounds. Yes, I’m afraid I’m going to have to call the city, and let them know that my palms are ready for a snipping!

This is a tale of two trees. On the left is what remains of what was once a majestic myrtle tree. It has the unfortunate circumstance of being close to a property line, adjacent to a “neighbor” whom shall remain nameless, but will be described here for the purposes of generating a dialogue. On the right is said neighbor’s backyard myrtle tree.

Yes, gentle reader, I seek out your counsel in an effort to achieve some sort of balance, if only hypothetical. According to city arbitrators, the unfortunate situtation in which I find myself is all too common. Neighbors arguing over a plant, a wall, an invisible line. I have lived in Monrovia for 2.5 years. I moved here because of the people, the town, the cute homes, the mature trees, the ambiance. Most people I encountered were friendly, helpful, and happy to live here. In fact, I heard locals say more than once, “I love living here.”

Having experienced it first hand, I can also concur with this sentiment. Regrettably, I have found myself living next door to arguably one of the most disagreeable residents in town. Shortly after I moved in, she hinted around about my trimming my myrtle tree. I said that yes, I would be trimming it in the near future. A few weeks later, she appeared angry that I hadn’t done it yet, and said I should cut back all the branches (on her side) to the property line and top the tree. As the trunk aligns the property edge, that would leave a tree with branches on one side only.

As it happens, I am a tree lover, and was appalled by her suggestion. Topping trees is a cheap and lazy practice, and certainly no substitute for having a trained arborist shape the tree, pruning out weak branches and leaving in the strong and more pleasing ones. She threatened me, saying that if I didn’t trim it she would take drastic measures and “stick me with the bill.”

After a bit of searching, I found an arborist, and arranged for him to trim the tree. Apparently he was in some demand, as it took two months to get an appointment. In those two months, my neighbor said my tree was releasing dampness into the air, causing her house damage; was dropping excess leaves and causing her roof damage; shading her home to excess; and was a fire hazard. She also said that the leaves from the tree had clogged her rain gutter and she wanted me to pay to have it cleaned out. I noted that she did not have rain gutters on my side of her house and she repled, “Haven’t you ever heard of wind?” I replied, “What about the two myrtle trees in your front yard?” She hung up the phone.

I knew then that I was dealing with a crazy person. My tree cleared her roof 4-5 feet, but she was obsessed with getting rid of all branches on her side of the property line. I had my arborist speak to her, and after he trimmed the tree she was happy for about 4 months, and then she started in again about trimming it. In the meantime, she begain harping on a flowering vine I planted on the fence under the tree (I had asked her permission and got her agreement months before). She left me another harshly worded note on my front step, calling the vine a “weed,” and notified me that she reported my tree to the fire department and the city.

To make a long story short, she finally made good on her threat, and hacked my beautiful tree in half. She now waves and smiles when she drives by. I called her up and yelled at her and she hung up on me. The other day I was talking to her neighbor on the other side, and he told me that she sued him over a few inches of property line. “She forced me to build this wall, and then she complained about it,” he said. “I call it my battleship,” he added, pointing to the shape of it. I could see what he meant. As we looked at the wall, I noticed for the first time an additional myrtle tree in her backyard. It was drooping over her roof, touching it in many places. It looked like it had never been trimmed. She had an overgrown vine next to it.

“That woman has a lot of nerve,” I said. “I’m going to take a picture of it.”

And dear readers, I invite you to make up your own mind. Her tree is on the right. There is more to the story, but I shall finish by quoting the dear poet Robert Frost: “Good fences make good neighbors.”

I sure wish I had a better one.