One thing that I’ll say about my in-laws is that when they go, they go large. So when we told them that we wanted to put some fruit trees in our new backyard, they got us some. Nine to be exact. Nine fruit trees for my husband Hansel’s birthday back in February.
These poor little trees sat, waiting to be planted, for two months until finally last weekend the weather was warm enough and we had time enough to put them in the ground. It was quite an undertaking. There were ten trees all-together, plus three lavender bushes, two salvia bushes, a lilac bush, and no less that sixteen little yellow annual flowers that I had bought that morning to help accent the bushes. What a wonderful idea!
With post-digger in hand, we (and by we I mean he) started the planting around 11:00. I mean really, how long could planting 10 trees take?
The answer is about six hours. About half way through, when Hansel was taking a much-deserved break, I thought I’d get in on the fun, too. But when I couldn’t really lift the post-digger, I decided that the little yellow annuals were just my speed, in between playing with the baby, feeding the toddler, and hunting ladybugs.
So now we’ve got an even prettier backyard, and I love the thought of watching these trees grow. They are just another physical reminder that we are planting our roots here. And that feels so good. It’s been a long time since I’ve had real roots somewhere.
Up until we got married five years ago, I hadn’t lived in one place for more than two years since I moved out of my parents’ house to go to college at the age of seventeen (in 1993, y’all). The first house that my husband and I lived in was nice, but it never really felt like home to me. But this place. This place is my beautiful home. My children are happy here. I can put up my feet in my backyard and sip a glass of sweet tea. In fact, I’m writing this outside right now, smelling the orange blossoms, my skin warming in the sun, and the roots of my trees anchoring themselves down in the beautiful dirt.