Years ago, I read an article in Southern Living Magazine about “crepe murder.”

Crepe murder is when folks prune or cut their tall crepe myrtles back so far, all that’s left is the tree trunk.

Maybe some of you have unknowingly committed such an act. And for those of you who have purposely over-pruned and think you can get away with it — think again. Those knots that appear where new growth will eventually come in are a dead giveaway.

And driving around town, it is easy to see there is a lot of crepe murdering going on.

If I were completely honest, there have been times that crepe murder crossed my mind, especially when a pest infestation took over, but because of my commitment to the Southern Living law that I held in such esteem, I refrained.

This leads me to what hubby did last weekend.

First let me say, like me, hubby’s heels were dug in when it came to committing crepe murder, even though two of our three Natchez crepe myrtles were literally blanketing the roof of the house.

But after years of nagging, because I was tired of the trees spitting on my outdoor furniture and the never-ending job of blowing the leaves off of the patio in the fall, he put a stop to my complaining.

We still stayed faithful to our values — no crepe murder. Instead, the decision was made to just cut the two trees completely down.

Boy was that an undertaking.

Have you ever noticed how big and thick the trunks are on Natchez crepe myrtles? And they weigh a ton. That’s evidenced by the chipped shingles and bent-up gutter on the house after one of those giraffe-like limbs rolled to the ground after it had been cut.

Truthfully, I was glad it was only the roof and gutter that were injured. Watching the fellow hubby had to help him teeter on the steep roof with a chainsaw in hand while he held tight to a rope that was to help guide the cut limb to the ground made me a basketcase.

At that point, crepe murder seemed like it would have been a safer option. Obviously, less destructive.

But the deed has been done and now all that’s left is to finish cleaning up the debris and sawing the trunks to the ground.

No doubt, I will miss the shade those two beauties provided, but come fall, I will be smiling from ear to ear when I can rest and relax on the patio instead of working to keep it clean.

Oh, and one more thing. I haven’t picked up a Southern Living magazine in forever — I didn’t want to see what else I shouldn’t be doing.