The happy gardener

We used to have a big happy birch tree in the side yard. Then one summer gypsy moth caterpillars got into it and ate most of the leaves off and most of the tree died.

Apparently trees don't live long without leaves.

But I didn't cut it down right away because a bunch of birds moved in. We had a happy little family of flickers that woke us up promptly at first light even on the days when we didn't want to wake up at first light and the tree also hosted several nuthatch nests.

So it stayed for a couple of summers, limping along with just a few leaves on one branch.

Then earlier this spring we had that heavy icy snow and a bunch of branches broke off and fell on the new roof and I figured the whole tree had to go, birds or not, because I couldn't afford a second new roof. The first new roof was expensive enough.

So I paid a guy $150 to cut it down. My friend said we probably could have cut it down ourselves using ladders and chainsaws, but that same friend also got stuck way up in a tree while trimming one of his own trees after a branch he cut knocked the ladder down.

He said he sat up there, a good 30 feet, and yelled for about a half hour before his wife heard him. The ladder was too heavy for her to lift so she called me and I got him down.

So down my birch tree went and then I got the dumb idea that a flower garden would look real good along around the base of the stump.

I bought a bunch of perennial flower seeds and rented front-tined roto-tiller for $47.30. Got it home and went two feet and the belt fell off. Went two feet more and the belt fell off again.

This went on for about 10 times and then, for some reason, the belt decided to stay on.

Roto-tillers are made for one purpose: To pull your arms out of your sockets. To that end, this one worked great. I went around and round in circles with that until my hands were bloodied with blisters and my arms were at least a good two inches longer.

Then the belt fell off and then one of the wheels fell off.

I wish I was making this up, but I am not. I put the belt back on, burned my arm on the exhaust, and finished the job with just one wheel, which proved problematic because the roto-tiller became a sort of Tilt-a-Wheel, with one side digging in deep and the other spinning skyward and me, with my bloodied palms and green thumbs trying my best just to hold onto the stinking thing.

The engine didn't like being tipped on end and every once in a while it would belch out a huge cloud of blue-black smoke.

To passerbys, I looked as if I were on fire.

But somehow I got it done, though I must admit the flower bed is a maze of chopped up roots and sod with some honest-to-goodness tilled soil mixed in.

It will have to be raked and mulched and planted and taken care of.

Sigh.

I feel a cramp coming on.