by Janice Daugharty
Kneeling in the tiny, enclosed courtyard of her Atlanta townhouse, my friend was tying neat bundles of twigs from a massive wisteria vine she'd been gradually dismantling. "Why don't you just toss the mess over that wall?" I asked, pointing behind her. "Because," she said, "that's my neighbor's courtyard." I'm from the country of big men, big equipment and lots of space.