We’re
those annoying old folks in the neighborhood who don’t (and post-retirement no-longer-can
afford even if they wanted to) yuppie “Arcadia” style* lawn care. (What
else would you expect from a blogger who possum- identifies?)
Jes' passin' thru...
Husband
and I bought this house 30+ years ago when we were in our late thirties and
strong enough to do all the required maintenance. We cared for three long
privet hedges, we mowed, and had the old, beat up silver maples—the reason we
purchased the property in the first place—regularly thinned. We both worked, so
paying for large tree maintenance was not a problem. We conscientiously fed the trees and hired trained
arborists, not the butchers who engage in “topping” a.k.a. a really fast way to make a tree diseased, rotten, and highly likely to fall down in a wind storm.
2011, same tree, another angle, wider now
Over
the years, I’ve planted 30 more trees on the property, which, considering that
it’s barely an acre, was Arboreal Over-kill. The star of these early
additions was an apple tree. The blooms delight us every spring. On a warm April evening it is possible to stand beneath it and hear the music of bees in the blossoms. For many
autumns, this tree literally rained apples upon us. It still delights the eye and will
always be honored for the mountains of sauce and pies it has provided.
Husband
loathes yard work and curses every minute he spends doing it, so much fell on
me and my bad back—although I’d expected all that and had still opted for this house. Our silver maples are “trash trees” which shed sticks and branches like crazy. I am
forever picking up after them. Husband was forever driving to the recycle center
with loads of dead wood and hedge clippings.
Years passed. Our health declined. There were trips to the hospital for big-deal surgeries. Much privet was removed. Yard maintenance has suffered.
Years passed. Our health declined. There were trips to the hospital for big-deal surgeries. Much privet was removed. Yard maintenance has suffered.