The plants and a few trees in our yard have all grown wild with the rains and like my hair they’re all in dire need of trimming. Never mind what some Instagram stories have supposedly discovered; that all trees and plants experience pain and have feelings whenever we cut them down or manicure their branches. Still, I plan to do so this week. Sorry to IG followers, I am somewhat into Mandalorian thinking which says, ‘this is the way’.
The Malavar Spinach has all but almost overtaken one side of the fence with a few of its shoots already intruding into my neighbor’s side plants. The same with the Blue Ternate. For a time, it began crawling its way to the ground cable of the electric post, I had to right away cut one of its main roots. The Moringa softwood tree provides the most worrisome task. I have to climb up the fence to first trim the branches and then cut its trunk, starting from the top then down to my height so it won’t cut off the morning sunlight from coming in the dining area. At the present, with its height, it has grown way past the TV antennae and higher than the roof.
The Calamansi fruit tree in back of the house at last in bloom, after many years of trying different kinds of fertilizers the mum had used. Problem now is, I’ve to make my way past a bush of Insulin plants in order to harvest more than a basketful. This means the task will require a major-major trimming of this plants. Even with the matey’s constant egging me that I do it, I still haven’t gotten around to yet. Them insolent trees must be sending telepathic signals for me to forget the whole thing. But ‘this is the way’, I’ll be needing the kalamansi when I start frying the boneless Bangus (Milkfish), which I plan to do in two days.
In all, that’s a heavy lot of trimming schedule this week. If I only had my way, I would be limiting the plants and fruit trees in the small yard so everything is easier to manage. But the matey has other plans. Mandalorian be damned, this is her way.
I am just the designated gardener, a survivor also tasked with laundry. These two things are closely-related, if you must know. In consonance with the perennial curse of suburbia and subdivision housing units, one cannot have a lush place for trees and plant while at the same time have a space for hanging your laundry. That’s akin to having your cake and eating it too. “Medya-medya lang” my kumpare will say, meet it halfway and all will be well. That is the way.
