Friday, April 11th - This Means WAR!

I understand now.

For the first time, I know the same pressure that my father feels.

I now get the compulsion that every male must feel at some point in their lives.

Yes, I am about to go to war.

War against...

MY NEIGHBORS and their new hanging plants and over-the-railing pots!

For the record, I live in an apartment with a eastward pointing balcony. I am one of four apartments in my complex with a balcony like this, and since we are facing Meridian St, which is basically the closest thing to a Main Street you'll get in Indy, we are encouraged to have flowers to enhance the curb appeal of the complex. Now, I would have done this without being asked, because I actually do like tending to plants, which pretty much goes back to when I was a child and my mother had me take care of all of her rose bushes. Indeed, it always pissed her off because, just like with baking, I was better at it than her (oh yeah, and she was still shocked when I told her I was gay, silly mama).

For the longest time, I was the only one who really took the time to put plants on the balcony. My neighbor across the hall, attempted half-heartedly to keep up with me, but even though he purchased some nice over-the-rail pots, they ended up being dried husks. When he moved out and left the pots, I asked if I could have them, and that is what I had all last year, along with a beautiful Mandavilla that snaked its way almost around the entire cast iron railing. I haven't really decided what I was going to do this year, because it is really too cold yet to plant anything (case in point, we could have a little snow this weekend), but then, my neighbor in the other building decided to start a turf war. I will pick up the gauntlet he/she has thrown down.

This means...WAR!

I was innocently walking home yesterday when I saw the first salvo. They had bought all new over-the-rail pots, which were obviously bigger and nicer than the ones I have, but to add insult to injury, they actually hung hooks on the french doors so that they could hang matching hanging pots. Oh NO they didn't! Those evil geniuses! How dare they!

So, now that my finances are in order, I am ready to take on this new threat. Now I know why my father's ears will perk up if he hears the tell-tale sounds of a mower starting in their cul-de-sac. He, too, cannot allow a neighbor's yard to look better than his, and while a balcony hardly seems like something worth fighting for, I am prepared to fight until my balcony looks like a botanical garden threw up on it.

Consider this a plant surge, but unlike Iraq, I am going to win this thing!