The Invention of Ivy

This is our backyard - and Frazier, of course.

Note the wall of ivy on the right.

Solid ivy.

On Saturday morning, Jim said he should warn me that Jan (pronounced Yon - our neighbor) was pruning the hedge. Just hearing the word "pruning" can make me weak in the knees, but hearing "pruning" and "Jan (Yon)" in the same sentence makes my head spin too. I decided it was best not to look until the damage was done because I knew there'd be damage. This isn't our first Spring here.

Mercifully it started to rain and Jan (Yon) took the rest of the day off. Here is just one of the areas where he went rabid. We now have front row seats to their hot tub from our patio chairs. Now, I don't know about you, but I have no desire to see our neighbors . . . well, you get my point.

And if that weren't enough - here is another pruning faux pas. We not only have full view of our next door neighbor (Jan/Yon)'s backyard, but we can practically grill with their neighbor's without leaving our own yard.

Here's a close up of their fence now. I feel their pain.

As Jim said, he's not uncovering an old brick wall - it's heavy gauge chicken wire! Sadly Jan (Yon) does not know that ivy was invented to cover chicken wire and hurricane fences. It is its sole purpose.

So, as you can see the lush green ivy that once covered the top of our fence is now a snarl of roots and bare vines. Which begs the question - who thinks this looks good?

But, alas, I should be grateful . . . at least we only have a hole or two and not just the snarl. In all fairness to Jan (Yon), it will grow back - it did last year.

But, here is the wall on the other side of our little yard. And I would be remiss if I didn't thank the neighbors on that side for maintaining a perfect jungle, not owning pruning shears and only going outside to call their cat, Gloria (pronounced Glordia) in. They clearly know the reason for the invention of ivy.