175. Attack Of The Killer Cabbage Trees

I love cabbage trees. There’s something about their ridiculous Dr Seuss shape, and their swamp resilience, that appeals to the absurd side.

I am pleased that the cabbage tree in our front yard has survived another tough winter and is in fact thriving, as shown by its prolific blooming.

Cabbage Tree

Unfortunately that is producing a near-death hay fever experience for me. My sneezes are so seismic as to be setting off tsunami alerts in California.  They leave me reeling for the next half hour as I try to recover my brain cells from around the house.  I am waking in the morning feeling as though the elves have spent the night stuffing cotton wool in my nasal passages and lungs.

Such is the price of botanical affection. I bear my burden with quiet stoicism. (Apart from the sneezes.) (And of course I don’t: I complain like billy-o, but nobody listens.)

But here’s the thing: MrsDavy has planted five more cabbage trees.

What can this possibly mean?

About Ned Davy

By hokey, the big fella’s tipped into his 50s. A rangy loose forward in his prime, good with the ball in hand, but rarely up with the play any more.
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One Response to 175. Attack Of The Killer Cabbage Trees

  1. Brother Phil says:

    It means – you need to medicate. Beer or wine.

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