Tag Archives: trees

He shouldn’t be happy, but he was.

 

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.

 

 

Why do they never listen?

 

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…

 

 

 

Another miracle.

 

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.

I love trees.

 

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.

 

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!

Worst. Gift. Ever.

 

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!!

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.