I’m feeling pretty smug right now. You see, there’s a row of tallish trees that form a sort of hedge along the back of my yard and that of the neighbouring property. About fifteen years ago, I correctly guessed that these were on their last legs, and no one believed me. It’s as though people forget that trees are biological organisms that will eventually die off.

My solution was to plant a row of new trees just in front of the old ones, which are now at the point of being able to offer glare reduction at just the right angle for my needs, just as the old trees are starting to thin out. My neighbour has finally started to cotton on to the situation, and now he’s whinging that his home office gets too much sun in the afternoons. Well, I told him, didn’t I?

Anyway, he’s now scurrying around trying to figure out how to install office window tinting. Melbourne has plenty of people who can do the job, but we’re a bit of a way away out here in the countryside. I’m sure it can’t be that hard to find someone to do it, but you’d think the sky was falling in from the flap that old mate has gotten himself into. I’m quite enjoying it.

My sister recently gave her storefront an overhaul with some kind of commercial decorative glass treatment. As I understand, she didn’t need to have the glass removed or anything; I think there was a sort of adhesive film involved. It gives the effect of sandblasting or etching, but is actually digitally printed and simply sits on top of the glass. Perhaps there’s something like that for UV-protective tinting, too.

Why am I getting on this train of thought? My neighbour can figure it out for himself, and I’m supposed to be sitting back and enjoying being smug about the density of my hedge. But, of course, I’m finding myself unable to resist getting involved in the troubleshooting process.