In Flagrant Disregard of Palm Sunday

Notice anything different?

WAS

IS

The cute little bush we had when we bought the house had grown into a monstrosity. It was above a safe trimming height, and quickly building up a tatterous frock of dead fronds. It was a beast to maintain, even when I could get at it, and now I couldn't, requiring regular (and pricey) annual visits from arborists, presumably ones wearing full body armor and gloves made of solid steel. We thought it best to send our little upstart on to palm tree heaven. The only down side was that the trimmed fronds did provide a surprisingly effective, if somewhat medieval, weapon of bash destruction. Club someone with one of those puppies and they'll know they've been clubbed!

It was an emotional parting... OK, not so much. But we did get some final photos before yelling "Timber!!!"

Without their native jungle habitat, the young local primates were forced to resort to other places to get their climbing fix. (Like Mommy Monkey would ever let them within 10 feet of those serrated knife-fronds from hell.)

While at it we also took a whack at the curly willow in the backyard - another over-achiever in the mandate to multiply and fill all the earth.

Bye-bye, squirrel nests...

*** UPDATE ***

Cleaning up the willow has had some unexpected consequences.  We now have an unobstructed view of our  rear neighbor's horticultural endeavors...