It's man-versus-mulberry season in downtown JC.
These pesky squishy berries fall out of trees at a rate of about one purple mini-bomb per three seconds.
The first year I was here, there was a guy upstairs who fought the good fight against the berries. He also landscaped the backyard. I teased him, thought he was being ridiculous.
"They're just berries. Make a pie from them. Berries happen."
He bought a net and strung it up across the yard. I soon learned (as did all my neighbors) the error of my ways in mocking him. These berries were relentless and if you trod on one, you soon tracked purple into your apartment, not to mention our new deck would get stained. The net was the only solution.
The guy is gone now, having taken profits from the insane escalation in JC real estate values. I missed the boat by wallowing in Namibia and numbly licking my wounds instead of coming home and selling, and am now left sitting on an unattainable theoretical profit of more than $200k, except that since condo sales are as stagnant as the foul pile of berries by the fence, I ain't got squat. A purple-stained white elephant.
"At least it's not a purple hippo," I tell myself.
The guy's replacement tried hard, trimming the tree and stringing up the net as best he could.
Unfortunately, the net has to hang from the second story condo window to do the job properly. And the new woman who moved in there went to see her boyfriend in Bavaria (my upstairs neighbor has a Bavarian BF--what are the odds?) so we can't get into her place. The net is half-useful, and I've spent my mornings wearing dollar-store gloves, patiently picking up purple berries off the deck.
Here's a before and after look at our backyard, pre and post landscaping. You can see why I don't want it to turn purple.