{"id":2069,"date":"2016-05-23T16:38:24","date_gmt":"2016-05-23T04:38:24","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.charmedlife.co.nz\/cowboybootsandbrokenfingers\/?p=2069"},"modified":"2016-06-26T22:56:24","modified_gmt":"2016-06-26T10:56:24","slug":"tree-planting-season","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.charmedlife.co.nz\/cowboybootsandbrokenfingers\/tree-planting-season\/","title":{"rendered":"Tree Planting Season"},"content":{"rendered":"

I feel unusually\u00a0organised. Not because I’ve finished unpacking<\/a> (heck no!), but because I’ve just placed my order\u00a0for\u00a0the\u00a0fruit trees we will plant over\u00a0winter.<\/p>\n

\"voucher\"<\/a>

The gift of trees from kind friends.<\/p><\/div>\n

The voucher\u00a0was given to me about this time last year\u00a0by\u00a0my\u00a0lovely workmates (now ex-workmates<\/a>, but\u00a0still\u00a0dear friends). At the time we were still a couple of months away from moving to\u00a0the farmlet, and\u00a0when we did get here\u00a0in mid-July it seemed precipitous to jump into ordering extra trees before we discovered\u00a0what was\u00a0already on-site.\u00a0I’m happy that we waited, there are\u00a0a lot\u00a0of fruit trees here, some of which we only identified once\u00a0they fruited (two that\u00a0we originally thought were apples turned out to be pears).<\/p>\n

Some have to go though. Previous farmlet occupants used\u00a0some interesting and unorthodox methods to maim<\/del> tame the orchard occupants. You probably remember the masses-of-baling-twine restraint<\/a> method used on poor Whomping Plum<\/a>. There is\u00a0also evidence of a novel pruning technique involving something akin to \u00a0a buzz cut on\u00a0the\u00a0front and\u00a0back of a\u00a0tree using a chainsaw. Perhaps it was intended as a\u00a0budget\u00a0version of the\u00a0espalier<\/a>\u00a0(minus the\u00a0wall\u00a0or\u00a0any attention\u00a0to branch placement). Sadly trees subjected to this form of butchery\u00a0(the poor Whomping Plum,\u00a0again,\u00a0<\/em>and the apple) look unlikely to recover.<\/p>\n

\"Tortured<\/a>

Tortured apple tree (centre, in case you were in any doubt).<\/p><\/div>\n

Then there was the strange choice of a planting site\u00a0right beside the bedroom verandah\u00a0for this poor fig<\/a>. Fig trees grow to 20-30 feet high and at least as\u00a0wide. Were people\u00a0hoping to pick figs from their bed? Have props handy for impromptu Old Testament\u00a0re-enactments? Anyway, either it goes, or we adjust to tree house living\u00a0as the foundations rise. I suspect that won’t be as much fun as it sounds.<\/p>\n

\"Hmmm\"<\/a>

So much fig, so little space.<\/p><\/div>\n

It isn’t\u00a0easy deciding on\u00a0trees to plant. Choosing a tree is like choosing a life partner. You are going to be living with them, looking after\u00a0them, appreciating them and training them (Oh come on, admit it. You either train the life partner, or<\/em><\/strong> you try your best to train them, fail, then blame them for it) for a long time. What if you choose the wrong one? The not so\u00a0crunchy apple, the less juicy lime, the not so Forbearing Husband? It’s\u00a0tricky\u00a0all right!<\/p>\n

So I looked at the catalogue (No, no, no! This is where that ‘life partner’ metaphor* ends). I searched the internet. I rolled dice. And the winners were:<\/p>\n