As a more-or-less right brained person, I tend to see wholes instead of parts. Sometimes this is a plus. Like when planning a garden or a novel.
But when it comes down to the nitty-gritty—weeding and editing—I tend to get overwhelmed by all the little pieces. And for me, overwhelmed means immobilized.
I do better when I focus on just this one thing.
This chapter, page, sentence rather than the entire work. This one garden, section, plant rather than the whole yard. When I narrow my focus, I’m more likely to keep moving forward.
We have a courtyard off the master bedroom and the centerpiece is a 15-foot Japanese maple (Acer Bloodgood) that by rights, should not have lived in windy Kansas. During last fall’s storms, branches banged on the roof and gutters until Jim tied them back.
In February, we gave the tree a hard prune—30 percent. The photo? On this branch where we made a cut, the tree focused on just this little sucker today … Pretty.
Last year, I planted a stick that claimed to be a North American Fringe tree. Located in the front of the house, I planned on it growing according to the label–ten feet in about five years.
I’ve since read other labels attached to North American fringe trees (not sticks) and found that the native fringe tree is a moderate grower that will reach 18 feet. So I may have planted my stick in the wrong spot.
Meanwhile, after our April rain of two inches, I noticed some black spots on the leaves. I’ve done my research and the tree needs fruit tree fungicide. If I don’t spray, eventually the tree will die.
Maybe I should let it die? No, that seems cruel. I should dig it up and replant it somewhere in the back. And get a shorter tree for the front.
Or I can spray it with fungicide and leave it where it is. I have the right fungicide. Problem is, the wind has to die down before I use it. At the moment, we have winds SSW at 12 MPH. Way too much wind for spraying.
If I had more money than time, I’d replant and replace.