Duckfoot has Landed

Yesterday R planted Duckfoot the Ginkgo (who is sprouting out in leaves) in front of the house. I was going to do the shoveling myself, but once I saw his wrestling match with the roots and rocks, I was glad he offered to do the digging.

Our neighbors are having two more oak trees felled this week-- because they don't like to rake leaves-- and I am determined to plant a tree for every one they cut down. Today, on our dog walk, I gathered some maple helicopter seeds (that's the scientific name), and I plan to raise some saplings.

R says we'll be long gone by the time those maples are dripping with syrup, but that's ok. Maybe our grandchildren will think of us while soaking their pancakes in the sweet stuff (blech!).

I also plan to plop a few lilacs in the ground between us and our leaf-hoarding neighbor on the other side. It's lilac season out here now-- which, just like mud season, I didn't know was a season, but I'm enjoying it so much more than the I did the mud.

In other vegetative news: We are possibly surrounded on every side by poison ivy. I've done my share of research on the evilness, and it is all inconclusive. According to various web sites, the nefarious plant may have 3, 5, or 9 leaves, it may turn red in the spring or in the fall, may be shiny-leafed in its early or late stages, may or may not have flowers and white berries, and may be ground cover or tree vines. The one fact on which they all seem to agree is that if it's growing in the trees, it has gnarly red tentacles shooting out of it. Unfortunately, that's not the brand we have. Whatever it is in those woods, I'm staying far, far away.

I've much more to say, but that will all have to wait because Sweet P is desperate for a new pair of shoes.