A little known secret about me is that I am actually quite the arborealist. Arborphile. Arborist. Whatever. Even though I generally have a black thumb, when it comes to planting trees, I’m somewhat of a genius. I don’t mean to brag, but it’s true. I have planted three trees in my life now, and while I can’t predict how tree #3 is going to do, trees #1 and 2 are doing quite well, thank you.

Tree #1, a Bradford Pear named Kristina. Named after the one who bought it for me as a housewarming gift five and a half years ago.

Here is the tree and its namesake, a few months after it was planted.

Tree #2 is of unknown species. I got a bundle of seedlings from the Arbor Day Foundation back in 2005ish, and planted them all over. Only this one survived. (Uh oh. Maybe I shouldn’t reveal this fact. This puts a blemish on my tree-planting career, doesn’t it?) Anyway, this thing was the size of a pencil when I stuck it in our front garden.

(I don’t have a picture of it back then, but just imagine, you know, a twig stuck in the ground. I actually did a really nice job of that front garden, but then &$#@ Katrina came and messed it all up. But that little tree survived!

And now we are here at Tree #3, my much longed-for Meyer lemon tree. (Meyer lemons are friggin’ expensive! And hard to find!)

Here is the little tree next to Tree #1. Look how much she’s grown!

And then I dug a hole:

And now she is planted!

It only took about half an hour to dig the hole and plant it and everything. This is fun! I’d turn our yard into a forest if given half a chance. How fun would that be?