This time of year, I have to wait for my moment. I have to look painfully nonchalant as Fran bustles the kids into the car to head for the store, for a visit, or some distant place or time-consuming event. I need at least two hours.
It's a confidence play--she can't suspect a thing. And when she turns the corner, I've gotta move fast. Maybe give her five minutes just in case she's forgotten something and has to come back--I would hate to be caught.
It's time to trim the trees again.
For some silly reason, the condition of the two beautiful Bradford Pear trees at our house are a source of furious controversy. As they've grown, the branches, particularly the lower ones, seriously need to be trimmed back. Otherwise, the grass underneath them starts to die, and the yard turns into a swamp. Even the thick branches need to be thinned out or the tree can become unhealthy. Also, if the branches are too low, we can't walk around under the trees and enjoy them--they even block people passing in front of the house on the sidewalk.
We will be having a block party in a month of so, and safely maneuvering under a shady tree canopy will be nice during the heat of the summer.
It's a confidence play--she can't suspect a thing. And when she turns the corner, I've gotta move fast. Maybe give her five minutes just in case she's forgotten something and has to come back--I would hate to be caught.
It's time to trim the trees again.
For some silly reason, the condition of the two beautiful Bradford Pear trees at our house are a source of furious controversy. As they've grown, the branches, particularly the lower ones, seriously need to be trimmed back. Otherwise, the grass underneath them starts to die, and the yard turns into a swamp. Even the thick branches need to be thinned out or the tree can become unhealthy. Also, if the branches are too low, we can't walk around under the trees and enjoy them--they even block people passing in front of the house on the sidewalk.
We will be having a block party in a month of so, and safely maneuvering under a shady tree canopy will be nice during the heat of the summer.
Fran objects to my altering her trees in any way. In fact, she requires a PhD. in horticulture before she accepts any advice on gardening or arbiculture. When she catches me heading around the corner of the house with a saw, she yells in terror "But you don't know what you're doing! You're going to kill it!" Even Xeroxed and highlighted chapters about care of Bradford Pear trees doesn't seem to help my case in her eyes. In Texas, these trees are known to live only 25 years or so and are susceptible to having too much surface area to withstand the strong winds we experience in the spring--these winds can break the trunk.
The man who built our house, as he reminded us several times, was a commander in the US Navy. He was a nice enough guy, and we can tell that he paid special attention to certain areas of the house as it was being built. A running joke we have is to say "Well, the commander wanted it that way..." when referring to some oddity of construction, electrical outlets, wallpaper, etc.
Another nice thing the commander did was document the house when it was first built, including the two little saplings that have grown into our majestic ornaments (notice the Texas Flag hanging in front of the house: The Commander liked it that way). They now have grown to completely cover our western exposure, so the blazing Texas sun is shaded against our house during the heat of the day (one of Fran's objections is that by trimming the branches our house will somehow be significantly warmer--bah!).
It's pretty interesting to compare our trees today to the commander's pictures and see the growth over time. I've also made a point of documenting the appearance of our home during different seasons of the year--they turn a beautiful shade of orange in the autumn, and have dramatic contrast on the winter. In the spring, they bloom with white flowers for just a short period before leafing out into a beautiful green.
We had some bizarre and particularly annoying neighbors who were always watching things we did and commenting on our activities. One time, they mentioned that they had seen Ryan playing with a particular toy through our window in the back of our home....ewwww, creepy. Turns out that they planted two symmetrical Bradford Pear trees in front of their house...just like ours--they later admitted that they waited to plant trees, then, after living in the area a couple of years, walked around the neighborhood and made notes of which trees did well and which ones didn't: News Flash: get a life... It kind of bugs me to be someone else's unwitting testing ground. It really bugs me to be told that with a certain air of smug superiority.
Just a few quick cuts helps these trees be more functional for us, and then Fran comes home--she always does the same thing: stands on the front porch, crosses her arms, and pouts. She sadly eyes the huge pile of severed limbs on the curb, shakes her head, and states "they look terrible!".
This reminds me of a bad haircut--even if it does look a little awkward, it will grow out and look more natural in a very short amount of time. But like any change of hairstyle, yes, it does look different and may take some time to adjust to...
The man who built our house, as he reminded us several times, was a commander in the US Navy. He was a nice enough guy, and we can tell that he paid special attention to certain areas of the house as it was being built. A running joke we have is to say "Well, the commander wanted it that way..." when referring to some oddity of construction, electrical outlets, wallpaper, etc.
Another nice thing the commander did was document the house when it was first built, including the two little saplings that have grown into our majestic ornaments (notice the Texas Flag hanging in front of the house: The Commander liked it that way). They now have grown to completely cover our western exposure, so the blazing Texas sun is shaded against our house during the heat of the day (one of Fran's objections is that by trimming the branches our house will somehow be significantly warmer--bah!).
It's pretty interesting to compare our trees today to the commander's pictures and see the growth over time. I've also made a point of documenting the appearance of our home during different seasons of the year--they turn a beautiful shade of orange in the autumn, and have dramatic contrast on the winter. In the spring, they bloom with white flowers for just a short period before leafing out into a beautiful green.
We had some bizarre and particularly annoying neighbors who were always watching things we did and commenting on our activities. One time, they mentioned that they had seen Ryan playing with a particular toy through our window in the back of our home....ewwww, creepy. Turns out that they planted two symmetrical Bradford Pear trees in front of their house...just like ours--they later admitted that they waited to plant trees, then, after living in the area a couple of years, walked around the neighborhood and made notes of which trees did well and which ones didn't: News Flash: get a life... It kind of bugs me to be someone else's unwitting testing ground. It really bugs me to be told that with a certain air of smug superiority.
Just a few quick cuts helps these trees be more functional for us, and then Fran comes home--she always does the same thing: stands on the front porch, crosses her arms, and pouts. She sadly eyes the huge pile of severed limbs on the curb, shakes her head, and states "they look terrible!".
This reminds me of a bad haircut--even if it does look a little awkward, it will grow out and look more natural in a very short amount of time. But like any change of hairstyle, yes, it does look different and may take some time to adjust to...
2 comments:
Those are very nice looking trees. I vary on the pruning subject. I tend to lean towards to the 'let everything grow as nature intended' school of thought, but will then have Chop Day, when the loppers come out and the shrubbery gets it. Luckily, I only have loppers, and would be too scared to pick up a chainsaw, as there are a few evil fur trees I could do without. Back street tree surgery. Excellent.
I have two fruit trees oddly close to the house too; they were fan trained apple trees that Grandad planted against a garage wall which was then moved to make way for the extension. Now they lean at odd angles and throw up branches in un-natural directions, some of them even growing back on themselves. I'm delighted to see that by next year I'll be able to reach quite safely out of my bedroom window and touch leaves. I hope to one day pick apples, and hope that when we eventually sell the house, my room goes to a small child who will delight in doing what I never could: climbing out of the window on to a tree branch and climbing down.
:) So you take Fran's side, eh?
We used to have a natural windbreak to shelter the north wind--a very old natural wetlands. The just knocked them all down to make huge houses along a golf course.
Besides chasing assorted snakes toward me (personally), this also exposed us to an increased amount of wind.
Besides, I really like frolicking under the trees (okay, try to not envision that)--at least sit in my chair and drink coffee...
Horray for Grandad and the fruit trees!
I'm scared of chainsaws, too.
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