Annoying privet

We finally had one of our fabled beautiful Bay days - stunningly sunny and not a breath of wind, and for once I wasn't working. 

I managed three loads of washing onto the line, and sprayed the troublesome jasmine again. The forecast is for rain again this evening and lasting through tomorrow. I am, of course, back at work the day after that so I imagine the weather should clear up again at that point.

I rang the regional council again about the enormous privet in the neighbouring garden that overhangs our fenceline almost to our roof guttering. That house has been empty for the ten months we have been living here as it has not sold and the owner is not keen to rent it out after his previous bad experience. I've never met him as he lives out of town and I don't even know his name - hence my call to the council.

Privet, while a very attractive tree, is a banned tree in New Zealand because of the high incidence of hayfever and exacerbation of asthma requiring hospitalisation that it causes. The tree has gone through its beautiful but asthma-inducing flowering stage and is now covered with seed-bearing berries. Once they fall or are taken away by birds there will be countless new privets germinating and the cycle continues. The jasmine has also apparently spread on the other side of the fence and is gaining a good hold judging by the way it is climbing up the privet. With no one living there to keep it in check the jasmine has gone feral.

As often happens when dealing with government departments I got an answerphone. I left my name and number and very nicely explained the situation again (I think this is my third phone call and in the last one six months months ago at least I was told the tree would be gone within three months). I don't think I'm hounding them. Three phone calls in ten months? When I have had to use my inhaler every single day as opposed to my usual usage which is only when I have a cold? We don't have air conditioning so our choice is to wilt from heat exhaustion with closed windows, or sneeze and cough and wheeze our way through the day with the windows open.

On a brighter note, my daughter and I have been invited to our neighbour's home for dinner. So lovely not to have to think what to have for dinner and to not have to cook.  


Joy !!