October 24, 2018 at 4:28 p.m.
Aged tree needed some trimming
Back in the Saddle
You’ve probably heard of “underwater basket weaving.”
How about “indoor tree surgery”?
The first used to be a standing joke when students were looking for easy classes in the course catalog.
The second came to mind on Sunday afternoon.
It had been a good weekend.
On Friday night, an old high school buddy who was in town from Tennessee stopped by for dinner, a bottle of wine, and long conversations.
On Saturday, we stopped by Pumpkin Fest in Pennville and visited with folks.
And while the wild wind gusted on Saturday night, we watched Purdue pull an upset on the always-intimidating Ohio State at West Lafayette.
Sunday involved picking up branches, limbs and even a dead tree that had fallen during Saturday’s high winds. Then, with fall weather asserting itself, it was time to start bringing in the larger houseplants that had been enjoying summer on the patio and front porch.
That included our Christmas tree.
It’s a Norfolk Island Pine that we bought roughly 20 years ago from John Janak at The Flower Nook. It was a small potted plant when we got it, and we decorated it as a miniature Christmas tree.
And then it grew. And grew. And grew.
About a dozen years ago, the chore of getting it in and out of the house — in during October then out again in late May after the last frost — turned into a bigger and bigger job.
For about a week, it had been in the garage, which provided enough protection at current temperatures. But it was time to make the move inside.
“Is it time to wrestle the bear?” I asked my wife.
She knew what I was talking about. The first question was where we would put it. The thing tends to fill a room.
It’s more than 6 feet tall, and it’s at least 6 feet wide at its widest.
What started as a potted plant is now a monster.
Getting it into the house involves a hand truck, at least one bungee cord, two people and some of the vocabulary you wouldn’t use if the grandchildren were visiting.
And when we finally had the monster in place in the family room, one thing was undeniable: It was too big.
So there we were Sunday afternoon, developing a new class to rival underwater basket weaving.
I got down on the floor with a big pair of loppers. My wife gave directions to make sure I didn’t make the cut in the wrong place. And with a grimace and a squeeze, I chopped off one complete trunk at the base.
It was a little over an inch in diameter and about 4 feet high. But not to worry. There are two other trunks that size, another one about half that big, and half a dozen more that promise to keep the Christmas tree tradition alive for at least another decade or so.
How about “indoor tree surgery”?
The first used to be a standing joke when students were looking for easy classes in the course catalog.
The second came to mind on Sunday afternoon.
It had been a good weekend.
On Friday night, an old high school buddy who was in town from Tennessee stopped by for dinner, a bottle of wine, and long conversations.
On Saturday, we stopped by Pumpkin Fest in Pennville and visited with folks.
And while the wild wind gusted on Saturday night, we watched Purdue pull an upset on the always-intimidating Ohio State at West Lafayette.
Sunday involved picking up branches, limbs and even a dead tree that had fallen during Saturday’s high winds. Then, with fall weather asserting itself, it was time to start bringing in the larger houseplants that had been enjoying summer on the patio and front porch.
That included our Christmas tree.
It’s a Norfolk Island Pine that we bought roughly 20 years ago from John Janak at The Flower Nook. It was a small potted plant when we got it, and we decorated it as a miniature Christmas tree.
And then it grew. And grew. And grew.
About a dozen years ago, the chore of getting it in and out of the house — in during October then out again in late May after the last frost — turned into a bigger and bigger job.
For about a week, it had been in the garage, which provided enough protection at current temperatures. But it was time to make the move inside.
“Is it time to wrestle the bear?” I asked my wife.
She knew what I was talking about. The first question was where we would put it. The thing tends to fill a room.
It’s more than 6 feet tall, and it’s at least 6 feet wide at its widest.
What started as a potted plant is now a monster.
Getting it into the house involves a hand truck, at least one bungee cord, two people and some of the vocabulary you wouldn’t use if the grandchildren were visiting.
And when we finally had the monster in place in the family room, one thing was undeniable: It was too big.
So there we were Sunday afternoon, developing a new class to rival underwater basket weaving.
I got down on the floor with a big pair of loppers. My wife gave directions to make sure I didn’t make the cut in the wrong place. And with a grimace and a squeeze, I chopped off one complete trunk at the base.
It was a little over an inch in diameter and about 4 feet high. But not to worry. There are two other trunks that size, another one about half that big, and half a dozen more that promise to keep the Christmas tree tradition alive for at least another decade or so.
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