Junkyard Wars
I get the nagging suspicion that my neighbor doesn't like my trees. Or to be more specific, she doesn't like a few of my trees because they are dead and are displaying themselves in the most deceased shades of brown and black. You see, a few years ago I went crazy a-go-go over trees not native to New Hampshire. I bought saplings of a California Redwood, Sequoia, and Western Red Cedar and proceeded to raise them in flower pots in my kitchen. For one winter that was where they lived. For the next winter I constructed a coldframe out of wood and plastic sheeting and housed them there so as to get used to winter conditions. This past season they dealt with the full force and fury of a New Hampshire winter because I had taken the risk and transplanted them in my yard. Well, needless to say the Redwood, a tree suited to the cool damp climates of coastal California, is not looking at all healthy much less alive. And this brown, dead, dried out carcass is situated right in the lawn maybe 50 feet from my neighbor's driveway. So I guess everyday she pulls in she has to look at this ugly, sorry excuse for horticulture and landscaping. Oh well. I've always wanted to be the "Weirdo with the Trees", and I bet that's how she's describing me to her bridge group.