SPRING CLEANING

As if my raging case of spring fever wasn't bad enough, now my husband has gone and bought me a wood chipper!

I realize that this statement fails to make any sense to many people, but for those of you with gardening and landscaping in their blood - well, you guys understand.  To the majority of the population the words 'wood chipper' only pop up in news reports of murderers trying to dispose of bodies, but to those of us whose idea of fun it to go 'clean out the shelterbelt' it means ... well, I guess it means a way to get rid of the evidence of our crimes as well. 

Every year I get carried away with my dead tree removal, ending the day with huge piles of branches that need to be hauled away - by a man and a truck or a tractor.  I've pointed out many times that a wood chipper would make his life easier too.  And finally years of kind, patient, loving reminders about this have paid off; he came home from an auction sale with what I will graciously accept as my Mother's day present for 2018.

Unfortunately it only makes my urge to get outside even worse.  Now I just can't wait to get out there and start chopping!  As if I haven't been yearning for warm enough days to go walking with the dog.  As if I haven't bought a whole bunch of seeds and a couple of starter trays so I can give things like watermelons and giant pumpkins a jump start into summer.  The packages say I need to wait until 4 to 6 weeks before the last frost - it feels like an eternity.

I long to wander around the yard hunting for signs of life - green blades of grass, swelling buds on the trees, the crocuses and tulips I planted last September, little, pink peony shoots poking out of last year's debris, or those incredibly brave pansies that seem to pop out of snowbanks already in bloom.  I want to hang clothes on the line, capturing the smell of heaven so I can bring it inside.  I want to burn off last year's asparagus foliage to clear the ground for this year's sprouts.  I'll even be happy to see the first flush of stinkweed out on my veggie garden because it's proof that the ground is warming enough to grow stuff.

Heck I'll just be happy to undecorate the outdoor Christmas tree and treasure hunt all the hidden dog bones so my lawnmower doesn't have to. 

Meanwhile I day dream. 

Our yard is bordered by a very old shelterbelt on two sides.  The poor old maples are mostly dead, the cottonwoods have all fallen over, and carraganna are like an invading army.  In amongst this mess are second generation maples, some volunteer poplars, scrub oaks of unknown origin, chokecherry bushes, and the surprise crab apple tree I discovered last spring.  Is it too much to dream that I can end this summer with a shelterbelt of only healthy, wanted trees? 

The thing that has held me back all the other years I wanted to tackle this job has not been the chopping down of the deadwood, but getting rid of it afterward.  Husband motivation - no matter how kindly, patiently, and lovingly I do it - doesn't always get the action that I'm aiming for.  If I can chop and chip all by myself, the sky's the limit.

And, spring fever being as crazy-making as it is, my brain has tumbled forward to all the other things on my wish list: remove the fence posts and bury the electric fence wire so I can mow right across the yard, trench a water line across to the orchard we planted so I can water from the dugout with ease, and rent a man lift or scaffolding so we can paint trim and install facia on the house. 

I'm sure it isn't too much to ask of a man who loves me so much he bought me a wood chipper.  I'll break it to him gently.  If I should disappear - remember, he has a wood chipper.