As a child there was one smell of summer that I dreaded. It was bound to set off my hay-fever, and although I’ve grown out of that now, my feeling of dread has not lessened. I hate the smell.
In the UK it was once the tradition to mark the boundary of your suburban property with a hedge. These were usually kept neatly trimmed, square and ‘proper’. Occasionally, though, these sharply edged perimeters would become ragged, and, horror of horrors, produce ‘flowers’. Hedges are not quite so prominent now, but they are beginning to come back into fashion. Sadly, I have noted one over the fence….. I’m not bothered about the fact that it is untidy, it’s the fact that it is in flower that scares me. If I hear the shears I’ll be closing all windows and doors, and hiding in a cupboard for a day or so (well, maybe that’s just a little bit of an exaggeration). The culprit?
Privet!
Poor you! (My grandparents had a never-pruned, fifteen or twenty foot high privet hedge along one side of their yard – actually, I always liked the smell of the flowers. Sorry
)
I’ll let you off
Frankly, if it hadn’t been a signal for hay-fever I probably wouldn’t have noticed.
The have the same problem with the trees where I live. My privet is high, I need the rain to stop long enough for the gardener to mow the lawn and cut the hedge! I hate privet, but my neighbour likes it – so I just ignore it!
Yes, our neighbour loves it too. She’s been ill, so it hasn’t been trimmed. I don’t fancy her job when she’s feeling better. She won’t allow anyone else into her garden in case they pull up the wrong weeds
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I never knew privet was such a problem, Myfanwy!
I can turn anything into a problem given half a chance, Kate
Thanks for popping in.