Of Figs And Frost

Sometimes I actually do learn my lessons. The fig I planted in 2006 barely survived the winter, but rebounded to produce a late, sweet crop of luscious fruit. I almost learned the hard way that Ficus Celeste is not cold-hardy in this zone. So today, I wrapped her up in landscape cloth, wrapped the tallest branches in bubble wrap, then made a square cage of landscape cloth about a foot out, and filled in between with leaves. Added a tall spike as a tent post, then draped the whole thing in a tarp anchored with rocks at the bottom. Hopefully, that will keep her warm enough.

Jake helped me for the last few parts, which was nice because it took four hands. Afterwards, he convinced me to get my bow out, and he ran and got his. I had not shot in a year, and I have never shot with Jake. I shot three rounds of six arrows each at 20 yards, and all but two or three were bull's eyes. Whew! Preserved my status.

While we were shooting, neighbor Bob offered one of his pumpkins that was headed for the compost heap as a target. So we killed it good.