Some years ago I received a solicitation from the National Arbor Day Foundation: Join up for $5, get a dozen or so free trees, among which were Redbud, Dogwood... trees I actually wanted growing in my yard. Trees are costly at nurseries, so I figured I'd be getting a real bargain.
Well... not so much. These were seedling trees, most of them under two inches tall. Instructions told me to plant them in a cultivated area, like a garden, until they got bigger, so they didn't get lost in weeds. I'm no great gardener, so all the trees died except the two Washington Hawthorns. I was unfamiliar with the variety, but I should have known when they were the only survivors that I probably wouldn't want them. It's been twelve to fifteen years, and here's all they've done so far. Although the picture on the Internet shows flowers, this little misfit have NEVER flowered. There's another one like him on the other side of the blue gate.
Perhaps that influenced my decision to give Cliff permission to remove the unpleasant trees. Anyhow, he was glad to do the job. He'd be happy if there was nothing on the place that he or the grandson needs to mow around. It was an easy job for the little John Deere to pull them from the ground. He simply put a chain around the pathetic trunk, moved it back and forth a few times, and then backed up, pulling it right out of the ground.
You might hear our little Princess talking over the tractor noise on the following video. She was concerned about the hole in the ground that was left behind.
I'm sorry, National Arbor Day Foundation. But these trees had not one redeeming feature, and I kept them growing in hopes something wonderful would happen. Hope springs eternal in the human breast. Now they're gone.
Happy Fourth of July! We aren't celebrating until Saturday when our son is here. I must say, after the noisy, exciting Independence Days we've had the past few years, it seems rather sad to have absolutely nothing going on for the fourth. But since we retired, we barely know one day from another anyhow.
Peace to you, my readers, and may none of your trees ever disappoint you.