Alien Invasion

“I’ve been assaulted by a gynaecologist!” My heart stopped. What had my mother done this time? How could a woman of nearly 70 find herself in such an awful situation?

After some cautious questioning, it became apparent that the ‘assailant’ was actually an old man who was already retired, and no longer practising as a gynaecologist. Looking for a peaceful place to relax and enjoy his richly-deserved golden years, he had chosen St Francis Bay. He planted his garden lovingly and pottered about keeping it trim – enjoying the comfort and peace it bought him. Until my mother came along…

My mother is very passionate about the environment – to the point of rabid fanaticism. Woe betide the litter bug or water-waster! Needless to say, no alien plant is safe within a 100km radius of her … she comes equipped with hacksaw and poison, plus an eagle-eye for anything threatening the indigenous flora and fauna!

Turns out my mother and father (also retired in St Francis Bay) were out for a stroll in the serene suburbs of this snugly-thatched seaside resort when they came across said doctor’s property. My mother, sensing a threat to the natural environment, decided that the plants on his verge were dangerous aliens – and so without further ado, proceeded to pull them up.

Note – this is not uncommon practise for her – she has pulled up plenty of people’s gardens, and even managed to dampen a Christmas day celebration at my parents-in-law when she tried to cut down and poison one of their most beloved trees in the garden – the tree in whose welcome shade we were all sitting at the time.

There was also an incident closer to home when she roped my unsuspecting husband into cutting down ‘a few weeds’ at a school around the corner from our house. These turned out to be huge plants/trees that he was inveigled into removing – resulting in him being inclined to wear a disguise when leaving our house for the next few months.

And then there was her poor unsuspecting neighbour who was busy landscaping his garden… she reported him to the Department of Environmental Affairs because he wanted to leave an ancient guava tree at the bottom of the garden – an invasive alien! When nothing came of this, she went into his garden one day when he wasn’t there, and instructed the labourers to remove it. The central piece in his landscape. He was not pleased.

At one stage we considered giving my mother a balaclava as a present, since she was creeping into so many people’s gardens at night to remove the plants that she considered offending.

On this particular occasion, when my mother took it upon herself to save St Francis Bay from the retired doctor’s heinous aliens, he, not unexpectedly,  took exception to this and told her in no uncertain terms to desist. Which of course she just took as a challenge, and took more vigorously to her self-appointed task of protecting the planet by uprooting his seedlings.

After a few polite, and then a number of impolite requests that she cease her unwanted activity – he finally resorted to pushing her off his property. Scandal! An unwarranted attack! This was further exacerbated by my father refusing to defend her honour by beating her vicious assailant to a pulp. In fact, from what I understand, he infuriated her by continuing to amble along, and muttering under his breath that she had probably deserved it!

Thus the incensed call to me about the ‘gynae attack’. Passionate property protector or crazed climate crusader – which side of the hedge would you be on?