Not that it’s going to last all that long, but it’s crazy warm today. Like, warmer than Victoria, B.C. where’s it’s at the freezing mark, and warmer than parts of Texas. Yes, Texas!
Let me translate: It’s something like 12°C, which is 54°F.
Damned near “shirt sleeve” weather. At least if you’re Canadian. It was fifteen a bit earlier. Just saying.
I know I don’t normally make allowances for Fahrenheit, but I didn’t want it to get lost in translation.
There’s Herr Fahrenheit. Studious chap I reckon.
To me, the continued use of Fahrenheit is a curious thing, since it’s only used in The United States, Belize, Bermuda and Jamaica. Along with Puerto Rico, Guam and the U.S. Virgin Islands.
So, some 360 million go with Fahrenheit, while the other seven billion are on another page?? Hm.
Admittedly I still use feet and inches when it comes to dimensional lumber, even though a “two by four” is anything but. If you’re doing any complicated ciphering’ though, metric is based on 10, so it gets uncomplicated really quickly. I ain’t that bright in the cipherin’ department, so that can be helpful.
I *suppose*, in light of the mild temperatures, I should be putting up some Christmas lights.
I think Travelling Companion might have muttered something this morning as she closed the car door. I’m sure I didn’t hear anything.
Well now. It’s never been right up there on my little list of things that I feel that I absolutely have to get done. I suppose I could go up into the attic and rummage around a bit, ‘cause that’s such a fun time. Where are those kneepads?
Anyway, in typical “Welcome to Canada where the weather can change hourly” fashion, we’ll be back into freezing temperatures by this time tomorrow. We wouldn’t want to get spoiled!
We’ve been having somewhat mild temperatures all this week, so I decided it was time to do a little grunt work.
A tree has been growing in a spot where we don’t really want it, and rather than just chop it down, (that’s not nice!) I decided to move it out to the “boulevard”. (That’s the city’s term)
It’s an ash, or at least I’m reasonably certain it’s an ash. No jokes about putting it in an “ash-hole” either.
Obviously from the size of that tree, it’s been growing there for a while, but we’ve not really been around to monitor the garden all that much.
That probably should go into some sort of record book of understatements, by the way.
It does look rather puny there next to the other two that I set out some 15 years ago, and I probably should have planted a third one at the time.
See, when all the leaves are on that bigger tree and the one next to it, I can look out my dining room window and only see trees. No neighbours. Not that I necessarily mind the neighbours, but I don’t need to see them.
I found some of that bark protector stuff in the shed from the previous plantings and wrapped up the base of the trunk there. Keeps the rodents from chewing the cr*p outta the little tree.
We’ll see if it *takes* in the spring? Travelling Companion thinks I’m nuts of course, and figures I should have planted it in the spring.
I don’t know, I planted the other two in the fall. This I remember. They’re doing fine.
The one on the far left that’s out of camera range isn’t the first tree that I put there though. We had a little fender bender at the corner the first winter it was there and it kinda got wiped out. This lady ran the sign, T-boned a another lady coming up the street who then careened over the curb and crushed the little tree.
Lucky for the human I suppose. Not so much for the tree.
But, I found me another tree and planted it.
You might be wondering just what the city has to say about all this? Well, you can plant a tree (or trees) on city property, you just can’t cut them down. I’m OK with that. Matter of fact, I’d sooner have the trees out there on city property, that way they can come along ever few years and do any pruning that may be necessary. Hey, they have the equipment, and we pay for it.
Now, when I say “city property”, I do believe they were inferring the strip of land just adjacent to our property line. I don’t think they’d be too keen on me going out to a city park and slamming in a few trees. I suppose a big ole oak tree out in left field of the ball diamond wouldn’t really work?
And besides, I discovered in a very short period of time just how unused I am to digging in the dirt. Holy cr*p. The garden was hard enough, but digging a new hole out at the boulevard required the use of a crow bar. Man, it was tough as nails.
We could have a lively discussion about this I’m sure, but the crooked thing that you use for ripping apart lumber, thus:
Is NOT a crowbar. It’s (to me, anyway) a Renovator Bar.
Is a crowbar.
OK, maybe there’s a better one.
I’m really not keen on going out to the shed to take a picture of mine.
Just a technicality, I know. But dammit, the English language is taking enough of a beating as it is. I’d like to *try* and call things by the correct name. Even though we say “Aluminum”, instead of “Aluminium”. That’s a whole different kettle of fish.
How the hell did I get so far off topic? Was there ever a topic?
And by the way, it’s World soil day. And I don’t mean the kind of “soil” you might do in your short pants either.
Would that be “soil your pants” day? We’d best leave that alone.
So Happy World Soil Day!
Get out there and dig it! Wakka wakka.
Thanks for stopping in.