Once upon a time, probably laying in bed on a lazy Sunday morning (when we lived in the city, churched on Saturday and still had lazy Sundays), I said to my lovely bride, “I would like apple trees. Wouldn’t it be nice to have a fall family gathering where we make fresh cider, take a hayride and roast a pig?” And that’s where it all began. That was the dream. That’s why I live here. That was probably 8-10 years ago.
And today (after 3 years of planning, hoping, researching and looking for frost pockets) I planted my first apple trees.
They aren’t much to look at. Just sticks …um..sticking…straight-ish up. But that’s the start. They arrived bare root so they need to be staked. They are planted in hills next to the Georgia wall on the North side of the main garden. I have all sorts of plans for planting tree guilds all around them but the main point is they are in the ground.
Now, I just cross my fingers and hope for the best. The money used to buy trees was just money. The trees themselves are wealth.
Thanks Stark Bro’s.