Look at all the shizatt raining down on my yard from an evil Horse Chestnut tree in front of our house. (Thanks to Ben from Central Mass Gardens, who ID’ed all our trees last year, I can name the culprit.) I never hated this tree before… but this is just wrong. (I am wondering why I never noticed this junk last year. It must have been because I’d given up all hope by this point last summer, given the “Poison Ivy” dream-killer situation and all. I must have been completely avoiding the front yard by August.)
This is just two days worth of dreck. I didn’t even bother to schlep it down to the “compost” heap… why? Another day, another pile of crap falling from the sky.
Here’s a chestnut close-up. (By the way, they sound pretty funny when cars run them over in the road too. Pop pop pop. Probably give drivers a little scare.)
They fall from the tree with alarming speed — like little dive bombers — and hit whatever’s below HARD. They tried to pelt my friend (and Fitchburg city council candidate) Dolores and I the other day when were sitting on the front porch, just minding our own business, getting ready to go door-knocking/campaigning in the neighborhood. But it should be noted that I also saw a suspicious-looking squirrel scurry out of the tree a few minutes later. I think he might have been hucking them at us. I think the local squirrels are also responsible for gnawing the chestnuts into messy little pieces… my front flower beds look like the Fenway bleachers. Peanuts and cracker jacks.
So much for my enthusiasm that I hadn’t killed the plants in those beds this summer… now they’ll be smothered in nut shavings.
Nut shavings. He he. (Insert Beavis and Butthead laugh here.)