So today, we spent a big chunk of the afternoon outside with shovels and rakes and implements of destruction, hacking away at the forsythia monster. I didn't remember to get a picture of it before we started cutting it down, but this picture shows what was left of it after we'd removed the first few bushes—so just visualize the same thing, only extending about 20 feet, and you'll have an idea of the scope of this project. I went after the low-hanging branches with the clippers, clearing them away to give Brian a clear shot at the main trunks, which he sawed off with our garden handsaw. (This tool, a gift from my brother-in-law, is wickedly sharp and folds up for storage—rather likethis one, although it's not exactly the same model. It's an incredibly useful tool, but it has to be handled with extreme caution. I don't doubt it could saw off an arm if it really had to.) Within an hour or so, we'd reduced the whole mass to stumps, which Brian is working on rooting out with our heavy-duty spade—another gift from the same brother-in law. (It's known as theKing of Spades, and well worthy of the title. This thing cuts through anything. It's also the only tool I've tried that really works for chipping thick ice off the sidewalk in winter.)
So now we're left with a large pile of brush, which we are leaving to dry for a bit earlier than we attempt to put it through our new chipper. We figure it will take a pair hours greater honestly to break all of it up into bite-sized chunks and feed it thru, however it need to nonetheless be a great deal less paintings than trying to bundle all of it up (in bunches no more than four ft in duration and 18 inches in diameter, as required with the resource of our neighborhood Department of Public Works) for curbside series. Sadly, the stubby little stumps with their little tendrils of roots getting rid of them are every too brief to be bundled and too hard to go in our mild-responsibility chipper, so they may most possibly become going out with the regular trash. It seems like a terrible waste of organic fabric, but lamentably, I can not reflect onconsideration on any manner to position them to better use (until perhaps we will provide them to a chum with a fire as firewood with its very own integrated kindling).
Now our biggest problem is actually getting our hands on the bush cherries we want to go in the empty space we've managed to clear. While the term "bush cherry" can be applied to a variety of different species, including Hansen's bush cherry (Prunus besseyi) and Nanking bush cherry (Prunus tomentosa), the kind we want is Meader bush cherries, a cross between Prunus jacquemonti and Prunus japonica. These four-foot bushes are specifically recommended in one of my favorite gardening books,The Weekend Garden Guide by Susan A. Roth, which is all about how to create a beautiful garden that you won't have to spend so much time maintaining that you never get to enjoy it. Roth loves these bushes because they produce fruit "almost indistinguishable in flavor from the beloved pie cherry," yet they are incredibly easy to care for: drought-tolerant, easy to prune, resistant to powdery mildew and Japanese beetles, and short enough to be covered with bird netting (although Roth notes that it probably isn't necessary, since these trees produce fruit in the autumn, and birds tend to ignore red berries that late in the year). So this really sounds like the ideal fruit plant for inexperienced (and/or lazy) gardeners.
The problem is that despite its myriad advantages, this variety doesn't actually seem to be all that popular, and most nurseries don't carry it. We planned to order them from St. Lawrence Nurseries, but the snag is that you can't actually order them directly through their website; you have to e-mail them to request a copy of their catalogue and then order from that. Unfortunately, they caution that "During the months of May through October, we are outdoors doing fieldwork or chores for most of the daylight hours" and "may sometimes get behind on emails," although they do promise to "get back to you eventually." Apparently "eventually" takes at least a week to arrive, because I e-mailed them once last Monday and a second time on Thursday and I have yet to hear back from them. I'm trying not to fret, but I can't help wondering what to do if October rolls around and they still haven't gotten back to us. Having taken the plunge and torn out the forsythias, I really want to get our new plants in before winter comes. So how long do I wait before trying to find another source for these cherries? And for that matter, where can I find another source? The only other websites I've found that theoretically list them for sale don't actually have a link to purchase them; Edible Landscaping says to "contact our office to see about availability," and Rolling River Nursery says to "Enter your e-mail to be notified when this product becomes available again." Why on earth is this incredibly useful, easy-care plant so hard to find?
