Tag Archives: trees

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Because I can only say it here…

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(And not to my husband, though I want to. I really want to!)

Planting apple trees in excessive summer heat, during a drought?

Not a good idea.

 

 

A week afterwards?

 

 

Most of them look like this…. and I simply have to say it before I burst.

I told you so!

 

 

It’s been crazy hot and dry. Our lawn is turning brown and crunching underfoot.

Not exactly prime transplanting conditions.

 

 

But he wouldn’t listen… so now we have 9 almost dead twigs.

 

 

And before you say it, I have watered them.

I purchased three 100′ foot expandable hoses strictly for that purpose.

I added them to my original 100′ foot hose and have repeatedly hauled the four 100′ foot hoses out to the far corners of our property watering the damned things.

 

 

One tree.

One in ten is all that looks healthy.

I told him!

But he wouldn’t listen.

 

 

Indeed.

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Just call him Johnny Appleseed.

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Hope springs eternal, at least for my husband when it comes to trees.

 

 

The three oaks he transplanted a while ago croaked and had to be dug up.

 

 

So when we were in the middle of a drought and a heat wave?

 

 

He figured that would be a great time for us to plant 10 apple trees.

 

 

Holes were dug in ground that felt like cement.

 

 

And I had to run the bucket brigade again.

 

 

Because naturally he wanted to plant them at the far ends of our property.

 

 

But I did find some wild raspberries.

 

 

And blackberries.

 

 

 

It took us all damned day.

 

 

But trees were planted.

 

 

 

The heat was intense and I told him this was the wrong time of year to plant.

 

 

 

But you know how that went.

 

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Will he water and fertilize and care for these new transplants in this mid summer heat wave?

Hell no.

Say goodbye trees, you’re doomed.

 

 

 

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It started out innocently enough…..

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This week’s harvest from our neighbor’s CSA yielded  scallions, cabbage, beets, Swiss chard, basil, parsley, garlic scapes, a tomato, a zucchini and raspberries.

 

 

Needless to say the raspberries were demolished with ice cream the first night and since we craved more, we headed across the road to their farm stand.

 

 

I can’t say I’ve ever seen a tractor trailer box renovated into a turquoise and gold farm stand…

 

 

But hey, it works.

 

 

Fairy tale eggplant?

There are so many off color jokes I could make right now my brain is threatening to explode.

And in case you’re wondering how the veggies don’t bake in the heat?

 

 

Where there’s a will, there’s a way.

Just as we were about to leave, our neighbor’s daughters showed us all of her father’s left over apple trees. He’d planted as many as he could for his new orchard and didn’t want the rest.

 

 

You know where this is going…. right?

Free trees?

 

 

Yeah.

 

 

It’s been 100 degrees in the shade, the ground is solid concrete because we haven’t had any rain for weeks… and my husband wants to plant more trees.

Stay tuned.

 

 

 

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He shouldn’t be happy, but he was.

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He shouldn’t be happy we had high winds that brought down part of our choke cherry tree two nights ago.

 

 

He shouldn’t be happy.

 

 

But you know he was.

 

 

Because as soon as the sun came up?

 

 

He was out there.

 

 

Trimming weight.

 

 

Anxious for the fun to begin.

 

 

Ready!

 

 

 

You know he’s been itching to cut something down.

 

 

So he was one happy camper.

 

 

It had to be done, but when he started eyeing the rest of the tree?

I threw myself in front of it to save the poor thing from total annihilation.

 

 

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Why do they never listen?

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Yes men, I’m talking about you.

Remember the tree planting miracle I posted about a while ago? When the husband dug up and transplanted 3 maple trees to the far corners of our backyard?

 

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Yes, the ones I had to water everyday because we were entering drought conditions.

Well, that stopped when I broke my toe and I told the other half he’d have to take over the job if he wanted his trees to survive.

Water every day I told him.

Which is what I did, religiously, with his little patch of grass seed next to the baby barn.

Under my watchful eye the seed sprouted…

 

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And is now green…

 

 

Thick and lush.

The trees?

That the husband didn’t bother to water because of course I don’t know what I’m talking about…..

 

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Not so much.

 

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After brown?

 

 

Came bare twig.

 

 

If only he’d listened to his wife…

 

 

 

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Another miracle.

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Strange things are happening at Casa River this year.

First, the husband wanted to clean out the big barn  ( Okay, he didn’t really. It was just a bit of organizing… but I’m counting it.)

Second, the husband helped me make a garden bed.  ( I would have laid money on that never happening. )

And a week ago…

 

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I looked out back….

 

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And saw the husband planting a tree.

Planting! Not chopping down.

Somewhere in America, pigs are flying.

 

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Okay, he didn’t buy them.

 

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And only one of the three stands taller than my knee, but hey.

It’s still a miracle.

 

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He dug them up from the wood line and I seriously doubt he got enough roots to make them viable…. which is why I told him they were going to need lots of water for the first few weeks.

 

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Shall I give you one guess who has to drag that water to the far reaches of our property line because we only have 200 feet of hose and it won’t reach?

Yeah.

I didn’t think so.

Apparently even miracles have limits.

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I love trees.

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So, can you see it?

 

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Look closely now.

 

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Not until you get near enough to look up.

 

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There.

The neighbor’s tree adjacant tree house, hidden from sight by trees.

I love trees.

 

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Here’s the husband for size reference, holding the enemy of trees. The chain saw birthday gift I’ve lived to regret.

I neither know, nor want to find out what he was cutting down there.

I shall just enjoy the leaf cover those glorious trees provide.

And maybe do this –

 

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I needed a holiday from the holiday.

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Our last day of the long Memorial Day weekend meant a morning of yard work.

 

 

Tag team mowing with the husband on his new toy and me slogging along with the old push mower.

It was a gorgeous day.

 

 

The pear tree was blooming.

 

 

The mallows I’d planted were thriving.

 

 

And everything had finally turned green.

 

 

Except the baby barn which I decided to start painting that afternoon.

Let me preface this by saying I used to love to paint.

I used to.

Until I had to use an artist’s tiny brush around all the nooks, corners, flashing and crooked angles on that beast.

 

 

 

Did I wear some paint, get covered in dirt, rip my pants, tumble off a ladder and work until almost 8:00 at night?

Yes I did.

 

 

But paint was applied.

 

 

And covered a multitude of sins.

 

 

Three sides done, one to go!

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Worst. Gift. Ever.

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Have you ever given someone a gift and had cause to regret it?

I’ve lived with regret for the past few years and felt the old twinge again yesterday.

 

 

At first I looked outside and thought how nice…

 

 

The husband is trimming a tree.

 

 

And then I saw the gift I’ve lived to regret.

 

 

He wasn’t trimming branches off the tree, he was cutting it down.

 

 

Why?

 

 

I don’t know.

Because it was there… and he could, because I’d given him a chain saw as a birthday gift.

 

 

Whatever the reason, it’s gone.

 

 

Or at least part of it.

 

 

And if he thinks he’s leaving this abomination on our lawn he’s sorely mistaken.

Chain saws.

Worst. Gifts. Ever!!