Literally.
The kids each got their own baby apple tree.
Really, they just look like a big stick right now.
We got them from FedCo.
The only known mature tree is on Charette Hill in Fort Kent, Aroostook County. The massive tree, thought to be about 200 years old, is still pumping out large crops. The late Garfield King, long-time northern-Aroostook fruit explorer, introduced it to me and told me the apple had almost certainly been brought south into Maine by French missionaries long long ago.
How cool is that? (I chose them because of their name.)
We also planted a couple of plum trees.
What’s a little forage into the dirt without finding some slimy buddies?
It was all fun and games until Little Man decided to taste it.
Last but not least, Momma got herself tangled up in the burdocks. That is a pained expression in my horrible attempt of a self-portrait.
You can see the crown up there if you look really carefully.
No? You need a better look?
There was no hair harmed in the creation of this post. There was 30 minutes of pulling, tugging and combing to get it all out. The husband was of no help to me because he was laughing too hysterically.
Those burdocks have met their match. Soon, they’ll be meeting a weed whacker.
2 comments:
I promise, I'm trying not to laugh about the burrs.
::twitching::
It's ok to laugh. Now that they're out, I'm laughing too. Especially since I didn't need to go have them cut out. lol
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