You might call me the Perpetual Optimist of the Sour Cherry. I want a cherry tree. A lot. A *whole* lot. This is attempt number 3, now with bonus hammer in fertilizer stake! I think I've got this thing figured out though, and I've covered every base I can find.
There's an expression that you dig a $20 hole for a $10 tree. So I dug a $57.98 hole, on clearance for $30. The sides aren't so straight, and there's a fair bit of clumpy clay in there, but still, a nice hole for a good little tree. I pounded in the aforementioned fertilizer stake, 2ish feet from the trunk (the discounted hole didn't go quite 2 feet out, but close enough) and added a shovelful of compost for good measure. or luck. Whichever works. This marked down $58 hole is in full sun, a little higher up a very slight rise in the land than my previous non-discounted cherry tree holes had been, so, fingers crossed, no wet feet. Cherry trees don't like wet feet, I've read. But the biggest base I've covered, the HOME PLATE so to speak, is that I've saved my receipt and the 1 year guarantee. This will ensure that my little Montmorency Cherry tree will live, at least until September 23, 2011.
More examples of my faith in the weatherman? There's my strawberries! The babies, taken from row 3, are taking root in row 1. Will there be berries in the spring? Why of course there will! And my volunteer tomatoes? Three kinds! All green! But I've got the hoops up, so I can coddle them through until who knows? Hallowe'en? Maybe Thanksgiving! How exciting would that be?!
The relocated lilacs have set leaf and flower buds! Even the prissy French one that spent much of the summer drooping and complaining in the heat. And the rescued rose bush, and its "established" companions have new foliage! Buds even (though I suspect they won't open.) The clearance sedum in the front bed is blooming, and the orphan Rose of Sharons that arrived on my doorstep Sunday evening are planted and will be GLORIOUS next year. I just know it. Or they'll get rotted, wet feet or brown, sun parched crowns or the Japanese beetles will eat every single blossom, 'cause that's what usually happens. Unless it doesn't, this time.
Sure I'm a wee bit jaded, but I'll forever be an optimist in the garden.