Today as I sat here working, I heard a metallic “tink!” coming from the front of the house. I looked out the window, and watched as one pre-pubescent boy handed the other an aluminum baseball bat. The other kid got into a stance as though he was ready for a pitch, brought the bat back, and just then, despite my previous vows to be sweet as candy to the kids in the neighborhood, I barked out “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?” They ran off, and I went to check the tree. Luckily it’s young and bendy, so it just has a small mark. I’m still in shock at how two kids can just stand in front of someone’s house and take whacks at their tree with a metal bat.

So, adrenaline still pumping, I came inside, made myself some coffee and sat down to my latest obsession — The City Gardener’s Handbook by Linda Yang. I happened to open to the page that mentioned common problems city gardeners have with gardens that the public can access — namely, theft and vandalism. The book’s answer to vandalism, unsatisfyingly, is to use cheap plants you wouldn’t care too much about losing. But the part about warding off thieves is great: “use plants with natural barbs whose removal is too painful for the vandal to bear.”

Yang goes on to describe something about which I have fantasized…”This approach to ‘offensive gardening’ was honed to a fine point by one desperate gardener who twined barbed wire unobtrusively through her ground cover and around her roses.” The book then has a good list of plants that have their own naturally built-in barbs, including blackberries, roses, thistles, and some that sound downright threatning: stinging nettle and firethorn. A friend of mine started telling me to bury razor blades a few weeks ago; now it’s her answer for any problem I complain about to her. I say it’s her “azĂșcar!”

Anyway, off I go to collect trash from around my sad, beseiged little tree.