Notes from my Knapsack 8-16-18

Notes from my Knapsack 8-16-18

Jeff Gill

 

Digging for growth

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This summer the foliage in my yard has been on the move.

 

I've relocated a rhododendron, an evergreen that I think is some kind of dwarf spruce, and a six foot tall holly tree. These have been the kind of the relocations that fit into the old saying "Ladies, if a man says he'll fix it, he will. No need to remind him every 6 months about it."

 

The holly, for instance, was probably four foot tall when we decided it needed to move, and to where. Et cetera. But this was a good summer for a few things, and one was getting the landscaping beaten into shape.

 

We also removed a vast quantity of yard and sidewalk overhanging foliage from our resident maples and oak and cherry: I'm nervous about doing too much surgery to our dogwood, but that's probably next. The mounds along the curb were impressive, and I do appreciate the village crews that come around at the end of the month to gather and chip them.

 

Honestly, I was afraid to move the various shrubby items; the last one I moved died, despite (or possibly because of) my solicitous attentions. But something I've learned in gardening these last few years is that plants are actually pretty tough. My worries of doing damage were allowing the damage of overgrowth and misplaced growing things to hurt the plants more than actually getting my hands down in the dirt and pulling, or sharpening up the spade and digging down deep.

 

A six foot holly looked small wedged in between a couple of false cypress bushes, but once out of the ground, it was massive and heavy, and of course spiky. Blood was shed. Cardboard sheets served where perhaps a wheelbarrow would have been handy – but how many times a decade on a quarter acre are you really going to use a wheelbarrow?

 

Once in place, the Lovely Wife observed that it was going to be a bit too tall for what she envisioned there; she was too kind to point out it was just right when we first decided to move it. I was allowed the "let me wait until it roots in good, and after the first frost" out on doing surgery right away.

 

I have to admit to some sneaking admiration for this holly, and like to see it in a more prominent place. It's a volunteer, as I think you call them; not from a garden center, it just popped up, no doubt thanks to a bird passing overhead years ago, in a spot where I just let it grow seeing it was a holly. Ten years later and now relocated, it's doing fine.

 

Other trees on our lot are not looking so well. I hate to say too much here for fear they might read this column and take it out on me later, but there's one or two that might just have to go. Some of the fast growing ornamentals already planted when we purchased Sycamore Lodge have already reached the end of their useful life, and one toppled over entirely on its own, saving me some decision making. Others are starting to fit uneasily into their spot in what amuses me to call our landscaping.

 

Of the lawn, we will not speak. I put down minimal chemicals, but some; I used crabgrass preventer in the spring, but I fear I misread the label, and it was crabgrass promoter. The stuff is now over half my lawn! But, it is green.

 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and pastor in Licking County; he owns a home with his spouse and tries to take care of it. Ineptly, but with good intentions. Tell him about your property-owning predilections at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.