...not meant to live past 30 (That is correct- the shrubs had been in front of the house for over thirty years!).
I've had a general dislike for two shrubs adorning each side of our front porch since we purchased the house. What happens when JB leaves for a soccer game, a juiced up hedge trimmer is in the garage, and I have free time on my hands?
It all started out in such an innocent fashion. We have silver sage in front of the front yard facing bay window. Said silver sage is out of control. I did a little research through the Texas A&M website and found that the sage should only be trimmed in winter blizzard. Given that the winter blizzard came through, what better time to trim it back- right?
I get the trimmer out of the garage and see that the two much loathed scrubs also need to be trimmed- I started trimming and didn't stop until each stalk was but a nub on the ground...whoops. My next logical conclusion was that I was going to need a shovel to dig the roots out- our shovel wouldn't do. One hour and $120 later, I arrive home with a new shovel, 2 juniper bushes, lawn trash bags and a few other miscellaneous items. Three hours and one additional person (JB came home from soccer to my mess) later, we have holes around the stumps/roots, but they aren't going anywhere. Enter stage right- Pete. Pete has the most beautiful yard on our street and has been glancing over at me since I started "trimming" the hedges. I could hear him thinking "what are those silly gringas up to now?" As it turns out, Pete has been in the commercial landscaping business for 20+ years. Fifteen minutes and one pick axe (sp?)- or some kind of hooked axe like thingy- both stumps/root systems are completely gone. He then proceeds to teach us how to plant the junipers, water them, etc.
Thank goodness for Super Men like Pete who save the face of one silly little, overly "empowered", gringa. But hey, now I know, when I want to pull out a shrub, don't cut it down. Instead, wrap a large gauge chain around it, attach it to a pickup, and drive forward! You would think, growing up in the middle-o-nowhere I would know these particularly pertinant facts of life.
As a total aside, I have a serious fear of snakes. Yes, I'm fully educated (thanks to the afformentioned growing up in the middle-o-nowhere ) in the differentiation of poisonous versus non poisonous- but they still freak me out. I don't want to get close enough to them to have to differentiate and then make an action decision. Did I mention that we found a coral snake under my car when I was leaving for high school my senior year, or that my stepfather,
senseless has been bitten and hospitalized (i.e. nearly died) from a rattlesnake strike? Okay, back to the original intent of this aside- while digging up the stumps, I uncovered four little garden snakes. I managed to stay calm enough to pick them up and move them into another flower bed (I know rationally they are good for the flower beds).
I had nightmares all night thanks to those stupid garden snakes. Ick ick ick ick ick ick ick. I guess that is what I deserve for digging up thirty year old shrubs.