Planted

We went ahead and planted our tree on the weekend.

It was hard to find a spot, given it is supposed to grow 12 metres tall and be quite spreadish, but I eventually picked a place by the letter box Not too close to impede our local postie, not too close to the road to make trouble.

I love using a shovel. Almost as much as I love using a mattock. There is something so satisfying about driving it into the dirt and turning up clods. 

I suffer from Bunn-nesia. It's the mind fog that occurs when you wander into the local hardware store (Bunnings, in this case) and can't recall a single thing you actually need. Instead you find yourself buying miniature painted wooden ducks on sticks, or more twine. This time I was suckered in by tiny metal watering cans for the girls that match mine - purple for Peanut, green for Bug. Hopefully they will last a bit longer than our old plastic one. It faded and fell apart in a matter of months. Panzer may have had a hand in speeding it's demise...

Of course once the tree was in and watered, there was mud.

So. Much. Mud.

The girls stomped in it and ran up and down the path comparing muddy footprint sizes and generally getting dirty. I had to wash Peanut's jacket after she lost a boot in the sucking ooze, stumbled backwards down the mild slope and landed on her bum in a puddle. She thought it was HIGH-larious. 

I reckon this little adventure will become an annual Accidental celebration, to be added to the annals of time with "Happy Ham Day*".

Hooray for Tree Day!


{*There was no ham at Christmas one year. Mr A was gutted, so I bought one in the post Christmas sales. And so it passed - Happy Ham Day now fills the long, tortuous gap between the celebrations of New Years and Australia Day. Because to go without a party for a whole 25 days is just unthinkable!}