We had a tree that was in a pot in front of the house when we bought the place and moved in ten years ago -- I know! -- and everything was just absolutely fine, but then we planted a Rose of Sharon and it kind of took off . . .
. . . it "kind of" took off.
The poor ol' original tree, in its poor ol' original pot, was lolling about back there behind Rosie. And he really was lolling . . . and by "lolling" I mean "rolling": he kept falling over.
It took three people, a rubber mallet, and a kitchen knife to get him out, but get him out we did.
Here's here he was.
I'm sorry; I'm a terrible photographist. But Mistah was busy shoveling and digging and replanting and being generally Of The Earth and for the love of pete's sake I was not going to interrupt that.
And we didit. We got him out of its old pot -- nay, pots; there were two, one inside the other; go figure -- we transplanted him, we gave him his shiny new home . . .
. . . shiny new home
And Hsinny came over and said, "The arborvitae looks great!"
Um . . . what???
Yeah. It's an arborvitae. Not quite as exotic and unique a tree as we thought. But man does he look great. In his pot. Directly across the street from all his relatives who live for FREE in the GROUND.
But not our arborvitae, oh no. Our arborvitae has class. Our arborvitae pays for his lodgings. No wait a minute. No, he doesn't. We do.
That's how Home Improvisation goes around here . . .
What could possibly go wrong?