There was a package waiting for me when I got home yesterday. A long, triangular package with sticks in it! With luck, these sticks will someday be fruit trees in my front yard. But right now? Sticks. Not even particularly large sticks. Really, closer to twigs. I'm so excited!
You're supposed to plant them as soon as possible, so I was very rude last night at Thursday dinner and spent part of the evening outside digging. Then after everyone left, Puck and I went out with shovels and a flashlight and planted sticks. I suspect that if I hadn't been so tired, it would have felt extremely silly.
I wonder when — or if — I'm ever going to start feeling like a gardener. Because despite the fact that we've been rearranging our yard since we moved in, I don't yet. We've cut down trees and shrubs, moved stuff around, made beds, and planted three trees, ten shrubs, raspberries, blueberries, grapes, and some 30 different types of perennials. I've killed more plants than many people will ever put in the ground (mostly by playing "I wonder whether this will grow under the maple"). Yet the only thing that makes me feel a little like the term "gardener" applies to me is my tomatoes. Huh.
3 comments:
When putting stuff in the ground, don't forget to account for the future shad your sticks, I mean trees, will shed.
oops - that was supposed to be shade. not shad.
Yay sticks! If I have ever thought someone was a gardener, it would be you. You sell yourself short. Every gardener experiments, its like being a chef.
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