If the tree-delivery guy hadn't been a busybody (or at least extra helpful) we'd still be breaking mirrors around here.
Yesterday I dug the holes for the new trees: down through the four inches or so of real topsoil, then through a foot of round-rock dirt fill with a bit of shale mixed in, and down to the clay pan that seems to underly most of the yard. Today, Julie and I were out at the farmer's market buying pounds of butternut squash and brussels sprout on-the-stalk when the trees arrived (The truck was on its way down as we were coming back up.)
Holes needed to be six inches deeper, Ann reported. "And the sides have to be straight." Uh-huh. Did someone never hear of angle of repose?
Turns out that the clay was mixed with rocks just like the dirt above it. And with some other trash, to wit, a rusted-out horseshoe. Julie held it up and talked excitely about wirebrushing it and hanging it in the garage, until her mother told her to at least hold it with the ends up so that all the luck wouldn't run out. The things they don't teach the younger generation anymore.
Posted by wallich at October 4, 2003 11:58 PMgood thing ann was there so your lives don't turn to crap...
after dave's comments i went back and looked at the pictures. sure enough, there you are in the pictures working and the females are posing.