You know you're starting to obsess about something when you find yourself addressing an inanimate object vehemently. 'Now this is just getting silly,' I declared to the tree, when, yet again my washing was spattered with bird poo.
I marched into the house, and standing legs akimbo, hands on hips, I said to Husband, 'Right, you have to do something because this time it's personal!'
I love trees, I am never one to push for tree removal. It's taken the tree years to get to its magnificent height and it deserves to live. That is what I normally believe and would stand up for. But this tree ...As well as keeping sunshine off my washing for a large part of the day, the ivy, which is feeding off it and flourishing, encourages the pigeons who in turn poop on my washing. (And looking at the photo now I can see just how enormous it is.)
Trouble is the tree is in our neighbour's garden. (Where George's mortal enemy also lives.) Husband has checked it out and as long as we don't render the tree dangerous or kill it we are entitled to trim it. Husband has tried a few times to speak to the neighbour but no-one's ever there but as soon as he has it's out with the chain saw.
Ideally, of course, the neighbour would chop down the tree altogether - it must cut out his light too.
I don't like having this animosity between me and a tree; I'm much more of a tree hugger. But, like I said, this time it's personal.