Update. Because I know you were dying to know.

Back at the end of last year I took it upon myself to help The Pear Tree get itself a good straightening out. Like a major chiropractic adjustment on a victim who didn’t know they needed it. Now, if you’re not familiar with The Pear Tree, you can read about it here:

https://justcallmesharon.wordpress.com/2023/06/28/he-had-me-over-a-barrel/

And the side-note here:

David and The Chicken

And the update here:

Busy Season – Again

And now, our latest installment of the saga:

I knew I had kinda put it to the pear tree with all I did to get it uprighted. Pruned, dug out, tipped over, pulled, pushed, cajoled. We went through a lot. But it looked none the worse for wear when we were done, and I hoped for the best. It was a long, dreary winter, not as rainy as most, and I should have watered more than I did. But I didn’t. So here we are.

Last week my sister sent an email to my mama and me with a photo of her pear tree with baby pears on it. What?!?! Mine hasn’t even begun to act like it’s going to do anything. Then the mama pipes up and says hers has buds, too. Dang it. I may have done my tree in. I went out to inspect, and lo and behold…..nothing. I gently bent the end of a few branches and they are soft and green and still very much alive, but I think I really traumatized the poor thing, and now it’s stunted. Bless.

So I took to watering it much more effectively and saying nice things, and The Lawyer has fertilized it. And blessed behold, as Reva would say, we’ve now got buds. Now, there are no blooms, just leaf buds, but I’m good with it. Something is better than nothing. It looks like it’s been through a traumatic situation, which it has, but it’s coming back to life and maybe next year we’ll have fruit again.

But wait…..there’s more!

The branches I pruned off in the Great Uprighting – remember I stuck them in a pot and hoped they’d root? Well, one of them did! It has BLOOMS! Like, what the heck?!?! Now, I’ve not pulled the stick out of the pot to check out the root situation, I figured I’ve traumatized enough pear pieces for awhile, but it’s got to be doing something or there wouldn’t be blooms. The other pieces I pruned don’t seem to be surviving, but this one is.

But here’s the best part.

We had these cuttings on the screened-in back porch for the winter to keep them protected, but spring has sprung and they need to be out soaking up the sun. But we have squirrels. Lots and lots of squirrels. And they’ve been rascals the last couple of years. Digging in pots and ruining plants for no good reason at all. The pear branches are long and tall and the pots are short and small and Houston, we have a problem. I set the pots out to get some sun and water, and of course the squirrels knocked them over in short order. So I gotta do something to protect the sticks.

I obviously can’t sit on my porch all day everyday with a shotgun picking off squirrels (as much as I’d like to), so I need to enlist a “helper.”

Betcha can’t guess who it is.

Wait, what’s that you say? Three feet tall, 837 pounds of solid concrete, fig leaf speedo?

You got it. The David.

I KNEW he’d come in handy one day. Not just stand there and look regal, but actually be useful. His chiseled muscles handling the weight of the world, or one tall pear tree branch, whichever the case may be.

I’ve tucked the little pot in between others, rested the pear tree branch on the sturdy arms of the greatest shepherd boy ever, and dared the squirrels to get near it. They don’t listen to me, but I’ve dared them anyway.

So spring is in full array and David is in full  protection mode and all is well with the world once again. At least in the back yard of the Brooks Barracks.

Stay tuned, I’ll keep you posted.