WELL, OKAY, not dead but really cut down to size.
The guys came this morning, four of them, with a chainsaw, which would have reduced the work considerably, but the chainsaw went south in about five minutes, so it was almost all done by hand. Ouch! Bougainvillea is about as spiky as a rosebush.
I offered them leather gloves, but only one took me up on it.
Obviously, the smart one.
Now that the bougainvillea has been subdued, that leaves just one big plant problem, the loquat tree, which tosses garbage year-round but mostly in winter and spring.
The loquat was here when we purchased the double lot in 2002, and it’s grown significantly since then. But I must measure my moves because I now have one angry hen on my hands, my child bride who thought the bougainvillea was wonderful.
That was because none of the negative aspects ever affected her. It was like having grandchildren as opposed to children. Always good times.
The bougainvillea was her grandchild, but it was my nasty child.
We found yucky pigeons in the bougainvillea, two occupied nests with more angry birds who did not want to vacate the premises and had to be bodily evicted.
At least there were no eggs. Never a dull moment.