No hole too small.

 

Maybe I should rethink that title…. don’t need the porn spammers dropping by again.

Anyway, after we planted our free trees the other day we had to do something with this under performing flowering plum that was now ruining the alignment.

 

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We planted 2 of these before the big barn construction began, but one died and the survivor gets eaten alive by Japanese beetles every year. I was all for heaving it, but the husband had other ideas.

When my mother died in 2014, she was cremated and I planted some of her ashes with a lovely tulip tree in our backyard.

 

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It did well for 4-5 years until we had crazy late spring freezes and frosts that it couldn’t tolerate.

Since I planned to replace it this year?  Husband decided to do a little transplanting.

 

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I  (very helpfully)  told him we’d need a bigger hole since we were moving a mature 12 year old tree with an extensive root system.  With this  (ever so helpful)  advice, he did what he always does….. and promptly ignored it.

 

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Digging up the plum was an absolute nightmare. The roots were thick and deep and under the topsoil? Hard clay that might as well be cement.

 

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Our farming neighbor offered to come over with his backhoe and scoop it right up, but no.

 

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The husband didn’t want to tear up his lawn and went with the spiderweb approach to removal.

It took us approximately two hours of digging and tugging and even then we ended up chopping what had to be 10 foot long roots.

Whoever said gardening isn’t a workout needs to be bitch slapped.

 

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This photo caught the other half gasping for air after the last pull.

 

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I had serious doubts the hole out back was large enough, but away we went.

 

 

 

Yeah, not quite.

 

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There was a lot of twisting. And turning. And laughing.  ( Okay, that was just me. Husband didn’t find it the least bit amusing. )

Some quite inventive spiderweb root trench digging later……

 

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He made it work.

 

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Whether it survives is anyone’s guess.

More pandemic chuckles.

 

Because if you don’t laugh, you’ll scream.

 

 

That’s the very definition of symmetry.

 

 

I can relate to this.

My bags are lonely… as well as heartbroken.

 

 

I’m not a religious person, but first plague…. now insects.

It’s mildly convincing, but I’m still holding out for water into wine.

 

 

Finally,

A protest I can get behind.

 

 

Well that’s depressing.

 

 

Because the answer to “what’s new?” has never been more boring.

Because you can’t say no to free trees.

 

In an effort to beautify his farm, our neighbor grew 100 silver birch trees. He planted a row of them  (54!)  alongside the road and I must say…. they’ll look impressive in a few years.

Next thing we knew he was planting them down his driveway, on the next door neighbor’s property and along the road on the other side of the street.

Not wanting to be left out, I asked if we could buy 3 to put in front of our big barn.

 

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He said no.

But that he would be over the next day to give us three and plant them.

We love our neighbors.

 

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This half dead flowering plum will have to go.

 

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Spring was late in coming this year, and while our lawn is still trying to recover from some mid May snow and frost and doesn’t look it’s best yet, I had to laugh at the husband’s reaction to having parts of it disturbed.

 

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You know that man in your neighborhood who’s constantly outside raking, picking up twigs, and screaming “Get off my lawn!” at children? That’s my husband. He’s been known to mow the same patch of grass 3 times in one day.

 

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And yes, I bought him that shirt.

I think watching our neighbor tear up and fling the soil around was physically painful for him.

 

 

 

 

But he endured with stoic silence.

 

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And we all got in on the act.

 

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Say no to free trees?

 

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Score!!!

 

Making a grocery run with the husband looks a little different these days…

 

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As does his idea of the word essentials.

 

 

But the real news of the day?

This:

 

 

We found two of the most elusive items in Maine. Flour and toilet paper!!!

Now I can say I know how a crack whore feels after a fix.

Well, maybe not exactly how.

But still…

 

 

We found these precious jewels at an out of the way, generic name grocery store in the back country.

And no, I’m not telling you where.

 

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You know your bush is too big when…..

 

Relax.

This is a G rated post.

I’m speaking of  a yew bush in front of our home office window.

It’s large, unruly and was in need of a pruning. Problem was, I couldn’t reach most of it from outside so……

 

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I hung out the window and did a little hedge trimming from the inside.

 

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This results in an utter mess and small green needles everywhere.

But what’s a girl to do when her bush needs trimming?

 

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There.

That’s better.

How big is big?

 

Big is a relative term.

I think my butt is big, but then I look at J Lo and Beyoncé and feel positively svelte.

So in an attempt to answer the title question..

 

 

Yes, traffic lights are that big…. which makes your go to excuse of “But I didn’t see that red light officer” a trifle lame.

Moose are this big.

 

 

This might surprise people who don’t live in Maine or Alaska, but yes. Hit one with your car and you’ll find out just how freakishly gigantic they really are.

The pyramids?

Yup.

Pretty big.

 

 

And to be honest, this picture made me cross climbing to the top of one off my travel bucket list.

And finally, for Masercot. Who has never fully gotten on board the wombat bandwagon.

There’s wombat big.

 

 

Big and beautiful.

Yes sir.

They got that right.

It ain’t what it used to be.

 

Going out for a seafood dinner certainly has changed in recent months.

Gone are the charming restaurants with lovely oceanfront views. Gone are the meticulously crafted cocktails and professional wait staff.

These days?

 

 

It’s a long line of cars idling at the curb waiting to cue up to a traveling roach coach.

 

 

While this would normally not be the least bit appealing, I was quite sick of cooking last week and one of the husband’s friends swore this seafood was good, plentiful and reasonably priced.

 

 

From the size of the crowds you’d think the circus had come to town.

People be desperate.

We waited 20 minutes in the car parade, 10 minutes for a girl to take our order, and another 20 minutes for the food.

50 minutes without a martini?

Is not my idea of dinner out.

 

 

To say I should have known it would be bad is trite…. but oh, so true.

For slightly over $30?

 

 

I received 2 absolutely disgusting and totally inedible crab cakes…. while the husband frantically tried to find a section of fish in the foot thick batter.

Disappointing doesn’t begin to describe that rancid grease drenched mess.

Bad seafood is always bad.

But this?