Mark My Words

I would have loved to join our local No Kings protest on Saturday, but Tara and I were stuck in the car for 5+ hours. We drove out to an orchard in Gays Mills to pick up a bunch of fruit trees for our property. How far is Gays Mills? At one point, we saw a sign that read, DUBUQUE: 62 MILES.

Dubuque, as in Iowa.

A place that’s actually on our bucket list, by the way. Friends of ours swear that Dubuque is a fun town for a weekend getaway. It’s within spitting distance of the Field of Dreams set, so yeah, one of these days we’ll “strike out” in that direction. They built it, and we will come. But it simply wasn’t in the cards this weekend.

Every time we passed by groups of protesters, we honked and waved and gave ’em a thumbs up. Even in tiny Boscobel, where there were a grand total of two dedicated people waving Down With Tyranny signs on a corner of what passes for their downtown. Love it.

But like I said, we were there for fruit trees. Our beloved peach tree is old and lost a couple of main branches last year; fearing her days may be numbered, we wanted to add a new peach tree. While we were at it, we also decided to plant some cherry, apricot, and apple trees. Tara chose this orchard because the trees are locally grown, hence acclimated to Wisconsin’s climate, and were pretty reasonably priced. So, we headed out early, rockin’ out to some tunes on my iPod (not a typo) and enjoying the pastoral scenery of the Driftless Area, even though it’s about a month away from greening up.

We weren’t going to spend all that time on the road without making a couple of other fun stops, of course. First up: a gourmet popcorn store in Livingston, where we picked up a couple of bags to take home. Next stop, the Viking Bar & Grill in Mount Horeb for a bite to eat and a couple of ciders. We hit the grocery store and picked up a Papa Murphy’s pizza before arriving home. ‘Twas a long but productive Saturday.

Can You Dig It?

Many years ago, as a first-time homeowner in Vancouver, Washington, I dug a rather large hole in the front yard to plant a fir tree. I had no idea I was supposed to call 811 and have the underground utilities marked first. I could have hit a natural gas line and blown myself to smithereens or, worse, faced the ire of the evil HOA that ruled the neighborhood with an iron fist. It actually wasn’t until a few years ago, after penning an article for CenturyCo, that I learned you’re supposed to call before you dig. There are horror stories of people hitting buried utility lines and getting seriously injured or killed or ending up with hefty fines.

So, this morning, I submitted a request on Wisconsin’s Digger’s Hotline website. There’s a handy online portal that asks some very eye-opening questions, like what are you doing to your yard, where are you doing it, and oh by the way, will explosives be used for this project?

Umm…is that an option?! Hmm…!

As much fun as it would be to light a stick of dynamite, we’re planning on using shovels to dig the holes instead. Bo-ring.

Shortly after submitting my request, the 811 people called me because, while our mailing address is Fort Atkinson, we technically reside in the Town of Koshkonong. The representative (who was rather humorless, I might add) then ran through a list of questions so in-depth my head was spinning. First off, she chided me for stating our house was approximately 150 feet from the nearest intersection. “It’s actually 320 feet,” she said. “I’ll go ahead and update that, too.” Gee, thanks. And excuse my sorry ass for coming up with such a lousy guesstimate!

Then, she got very specific about where we wanted our property marked. “The side of the house” wasn’t good enough; after much back-and-forth, we settled on an area encompassing the east side of the attached garage, running north and south the width of the house, and the north side of the shed extending in a line north to the 8’x10′ concrete pad, plus an additional 10 feet to the west. Good hell; you can donate a kidney and they won’t grill you like that. And I’ve never relied so much on compass directions in my life. What am I, a freakin’ sailor? If I ever do this again, I’m tempted to take my chances on getting blown up.

In any case, they’ll be out to do that on Thursday, and then we have 30 days to get the trees planted. I guess I know what next Saturday’s looking like.

It’s only the cherry and apple trees that are even going in that spot; the others we’re planting in the backyard, well away from any utilities, thank god. There’s a spot behind our existing peach tree that had, up until a few hours ago, been an overgrown, tangled mess. I got jiggy with a spear head spade this afternoon and hacked and dug my way through the overgrowth, clearing enough space for the new peach and apricot trees. Luckily, the weather was damn near perfect for yard work, mostly cloudy and low 60s.

Tomorrow is going to be sunny and 75°, followed by possibly severe thunderstorms after dark. Thursday, they say it might snow.

Spring in the Midwest be cray-cray.

No Koi Pond Casualties

I’m happy to report our goldfish survived the winter in the koi pond, despite a brutal stretch of subzero weather in January. Unlike last year, we didn’t have a single fatality. Whew! Investing in the diffuser and floating pond heater did the trick. There are even some babies swimming around in there, so I guess the goldfish were gettin’ biz-ay. That’s one surefire way to ward off the winter chill, huh?

What’s your favorite type of fruit tree? Have you ever called 811 before digging?