Tuesday, July 12, 2011

On Gardening, Con't.

The City of Minneapolis has decided to give me a present. They have planted a little sapling tree on the strip of lawn that separates the sidewalk from the street, right in front of my house.

They also left me a note. "Please take care of your new baby tree. Baby trees need an amount of watering that will astound you. Please make sure Little Tree gets her water!"

At first I thought, They're kidding, right? They can see my front yard, for god's sake. They can see the crispy brown "lawn" and the shriveled daylilies, can't they? And they want me to water this thing?

Well, I took a walk around the neighborhood the other day, and I discovered quite a few of my neighbors have received the precious gift of new arboreal life.

But guess what?

They also got Treegators.

A Treegator, for those of you who have not had the pleasure of encountering one, is a kind of enormous plastic sack that comes halfway up the base of the tree. The sack is filled with something like 50 gallons of water. The City refills the sacks when Little Trees have drunk them down. This keeps the Little Tree alive and lets it grow into a Big Tree.

So my question is, Where the hell is my Treegator?

What, I don't rate? I have to know somebody? Or do I have to call the powers that be downtown and spell it out for them: "If you don't put a 'Gator on this sapling pronto you can expect to be clearing firewood in the fall."

Listen up Minneapolis: this is Desperate talking. I AM NO GOOD WITH PLANTS. I have killed every shrub, every evergreen, every annual I have ever tried to make grow. This is spite of water and weeding plant food and loving- ok, grudging attention.

That the City would see my yard and still stick me with a baby tree amounts to nothing less than Baby Tree Abuse (BTA). Unless the City wants that on its conscience they'd better send somebody 'round right now. I cannot be responsible for the wellbeing of this little tree. It's a disaster in the making.

Ask any plant on my property.

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