5:06 p.m. - 2002-10-25
Gabbie's Visit
Gabbie came over today. I have been looking forward to having Gabbie over for weeks partly because she is one of the most consistently enthusiastic people I have ever met and I knew she wouldn't give me any of this "Your house is ugly" nonsense. She is also a plant expert, particularly with trees, and I have been desperate for help in figuring out what parts of the jungle to preserve and what parts to unceremoniously tear out by the roots.
Gabbie is also a "comfortable" friend, meaning that I didn't feel I had to clean like a fiend to get ready for her arrival. I took a local flora class from her the first year we were here which involved a lot of tromping around the woods in 100 degree heat with dirty clothes on. The last two years I've been her teaching assistant for the class, so let's just say Gabbie and I have seen each other at our skankiest. She's also a big animal lover, so I knew a little cat hair wouldn't phase her in the least.
Like I said, a comfortable friend.
She came over at about ten and we spent the first hour or so just looking at the house. Gabbie was her usual effusive self, and by the time we headed out to the yard I was feeling that the house was positively a jewel. Finally, someone who appreciates its potential! But when we went out to the yard Gabbie really started to gush.
I knew it would get to her. I'm not even a plant ecologist and I get a rush looking out there. But Gabbie could actually appreciate what she was looking at, and I thought she was going to hyperventilate.
We spent two hours walking the land, and every few feet she would stop and say things like: "Ooooooh, this is a winged elm! Oooooooh! You want to keep this!" Or: "Ooooooooh, this is that nasty Nandina. Oh, people go crazy for this but I hate it." Or: "Bush honeysuckle. Not native, but the birds are crazy for it. Try to keep it contained, and it'll be ok."
She got especially excited about the trees. She identified the "pimple bark trees" we've been puzzling over as hackberries (I've never even heard of a hackberry) and enthused over our shagbark hickories. One particularly large red oak impressed her so that she put her arms around it and gave it a hug.
"Oh, you're just such a nice tree!" she sighed, a beatific smile on her face.
At one point she stopped short. Her eyes got big, and her face went pale.
"Oh my God", she stuttered. "Oh, my God. That can't be a Paw Paw patch."
She made a bee line over to a group of little scrubby trees that we've been thinking about cutting down. Grabbing a leaf, she wrinkled it up and put it to her nose, then mine. It smelled terrible, like sulphur.
"It's a Paw Paw", she explained. "All these little trees are clones of the original plant, probably that big one over there. It sent out all these little ones as runners, so that's why you have all these little trees in a group. I can't believe you have them because it's a lowland sort of plant. This is kind of a moist area back here so that's probably why they're doing ok. I can't believe this, I have to bring the local flora class out here."
We gazed in respectful silence at the Paw Paws. Once again, I felt we had made the right decision to buy the house.
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