by Gordon Hoey

Created on: February 25, 2010   Last Updated: April 02, 2010

Palm trees,great looking, shady and the spawn of the devil.

Most people, if asked ,would probably conjure up an image of white sandy beaches with palm trees swaying back and forth in the gentle breeze,a natural background as they lie undisturbed, sipping a cocktail with their loved ones, pausing only to interrupt this idyllic scene with a quick  gambol in the warm safe waters before them. 

Many products use the humble palm tree as a potent marketing symbol, to great effect.

I have however, a bit of a love hate relationship with the common palm. On the one hand, they offer shade, have a non invasive root system and need little upkeep. On the other hand, they can be a tad unruly, kind of like a rebellious teenager, all acne and angst. Some may even describe them as the spawn of the devil, and I might agree with them, now that I have been trimming one recently.

I live on the glorious Western Cape of South Africa, where palm trees, whilst not indigenous, are pretty common. In fact several grow in my garden, hence my current predicament. The spikes on my variety of palm tree are as sharp as a hypodermic syringe,meaning that  I am walking with a limp and with several of my fingers bandaged and strapped, bruised flesh where the needles punctured the skin,not to mention a seriously deflated ego.

Recently, my wife suggested that as I had trimmed our hedge, the smaller of the two main palm trees in the garden was now looking decidedly scruffy. It needs a trim was the mantra. Not at all a difficult task ,if you have the correct tools,cutting dead fronds from about 4 feet up the tree to about 8 feet up with thick gloves and a hand saw on a pole; this should be easy I thought. Following the advice of ones wife when up a ladder sawing at the fronds( go for the one to your right darling, it is just asking for a thrashing ) whilst being pierced by the needles in several places at once can strain any relationship. Trust me on this point.

When one has sawed through about three quarters of the frond, it breaks and heads inevitably straight at you, at your most unprotected parts, it will connect and it will hurt, a lot. In fact, it is about as painful as pain gets, for a man anyway.My wife reminds me that men no nothing about pain, try childbirth she quips if you think that pin prick is sore. Laboring manfully round the tree, sawing as one goes, avoiding with ever increasing dexterity the falling fronds, one may feel a certain sense

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