Sunday, Sunday

This was another productive, if tiring, weekend. J insisted we plant Indian corn, and the rest of his pumpkin seeds, plus more sunflowers. Done.

J also brought out our garden decorations, and placed them hither and yon. This is his favorite, the weathervane that was on top of our barn when we moved here. There were other spikes with the blue glass balls, all connected as part of a lightning rod system.



Trimmed some limbs off the devil tree, otherwise known as a Norway maple, a very invasive plant. There were no trees in our backyard when we moved here in 1987, since it was mostly cow pasture, so we planted some maples trees from my grandfather's yard. We should have wondered why he had so many young trees available!

Norway maples grow quickly, and are wonderful shade trees, but the dense shade quickly kills off any plants beneath them, and their little helicopter seeds number in the thousands. We did not know all of this, honestly, we didn't.

So, we cut one down that was killing the lilac bushes, and another three just because they were there. We have one left in the yard, and each year we trim the bottom branches so we can see down the field. You'd think the tree would respond by holding up it's limbs, and keeping out of our way. No, this perverse thing keeps drooping more new shoots down and we keep trimming.

A few years ago, Sectaurs took a bow saw up in one tree, and cut off every branch he could get to. This left a Serengeti plain looking thing, and we figured it would die, and we would get it taken down easier. Of course, it bushed out at the top as if it welcomed the pruning. The strange appearance did prolong it's life, until the amusement wore off.

The rhododendron that was ravaged by deer last winter has a flower or two. I really thought it was a goner when I saw it, but by golly, it is a fighter.


Ironically, all the hens are dead, and the plant lives on.