He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. ~ Psalm 147:3

Archive for the ‘Trees’ Category

When a Tree Becomes a Monster

I love trees. And when we moved here, there were none except for a mighty few. So we planted trees. Lots of trees. Everywhere.

Thirty years ago they were just little twigs. Today, they are monsters . . . especially the one planted right beside the house. A Bradford. With giant limbs stretching across our roof and the neighbor’s house and driveway. It’s a nuisance to us and to them. It’s got to come down. In the meantime, Buck is going to cut off as many limbs as he can. But it’s going to take a skilled professional to take it all the way down.

We didn’t plant trees to cut them down. But we were young and dumb and thought all trees were created equal. They’re not. Some trees are better left in the forest, like the Bradford. It may or may not grow in the forest but if it does, that’s where it should stay.


So, my advice to anyone wanting to plant trees,
do your research and find out what to plant and what not to plant. and trust me, a Bradford is one tree you do not want to plant!

 

Life is Tough. It’s Tougher if You’re Old . . .

So, my plan was to help Buck pick up all the limbs in the yard . . . lots and lots of limbs. Big limbs. Little limbs. Way too many limbs for a young person, let alone a shriveled up bag of bones. After thirty minutes of bending and stooping and sweat burning my eyes, I quit!

Not my thing anymore!

Will never be my thing again!

EVER!

I feel like crying.

NO! I feel like cutting down every blasted tree, pulling up every blade of grass and pouring cement!

Then I’ll cry.

A deep, overflowing river.

Long gone are the days of working in the yard from sun up till sundown, jogging twenty miles a week, cleaning the house from top to bottom, and working five days a week. Never again will I run up a flight of stairs, bend over and touch my toes, and press a hundred pounds.

Wait. When did I ever press a hundred pounds?

I’ve never been weak and helpless. I’ve always been able to pull my weight and somebody else’s too. Even as a kid I was strong as an ox. Stubborn as a mule, too. But we won’t go there.

I think you get my drift, especially if you’re where I am at the moment . . . old and tired and frustrated and discouraged and weak and puny and . . .

Stop! The list is getting too long!

When did it happen? When did old age wrap its bony fingers around my neck and choke the life out of me? When did it break my back? When did it chop off my arms and legs?

When I started jogging at thirty-six, I assured myself and everyone that I’d keep on jogging even in my seventies. I stopped at fifty-eight.

One of my many regrets. 

I did take it back up when I was seventy-one. But it was never the same and after my back injury, I had to stop. Even walking makes my back scream. But, occasionally I tell it to shut up and I do it anyway.

So, here I am. Wishing I could do the things I did five years ago and reality laughing like a crazed hyena in my face.

So, back to picking up limbs. Buck finished my job and is mowing, now. He likes to mow. And I’m happy he likes to mow. No. I’m ecstatic he likes to mow. Now, if he just liked doing laundry. And cleaning the house. And taking out the trash . . .

 

Why I Don’t Like Bradford Pear Trees

Bradford’s in all their glory.

We thought it would be cool to line both sides of our driveway with Bradford Pears. They’re beautiful, right? And fast growing and create lots of shade, too.

When we moved here thirty-plus years ago, it was a fairly new development. Farm land, to be exact. Hilly and treeless except for a few cedar trees the developer didn’t bulldoze down. Oh, and several Honey Locust trees with long, sharp thorns. Messy, too. Every time the wind blows, limbs fall all over the ground. But they bloom in the spring and create some shade, so we like them okay. We just have to be careful when we prune them. Those stickers hurt!

But the Bradford is a real beauty and laden with white flowers like cotton balls in the early spring. One of the first to sprout new leaves and one of the last to lose them. Perfect for any yard.

Until rain turns to ice.

Now, we want to have them all cut down, but that will cost a small fortune. No worries, though. From the looks of things, we can just wait and let nature take them down for free.

We’ve planted many trees in the yard over the years: Pin Oaks, Maples, Hybrid Poplars (big mistake. The Poplars grow fast but die young), but the Crepe Myrtles are my favorite. They’re not messy, their leaves are small, they’re easy to prune, and they bloom from early summer to late fall. Very friendly trees. Beautiful, too.

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