Mr Tree and Me

I often say that my boyfriend, Jesse, will never turn his head to gawk at another girl-- but if a big, mature walnut tree comes into view-- he suddenly becomes a double-taking, neck craning and not interested in anything but gawking-- boyfriend.

"Haaaay! Are you staring at that Burr Oak???"

And that's another thing. I've never had a problem with trees. I like them as much as the next person- but since I've been dating Forest Man, I have developed a knack for identifying trees- almost any tree. Big, small, with leaves, without. I am a freakin expert.

We were on a walk over a month ago, and found these little acorns by a stream. They were sprouting. I have never seen an acorn sprout- and unbelievably- neither had Jesse. We put some in our pockets, zoomed to the store to buy some pots and dirt, and planted them. We now have *8* little oak trees growing in my apartment! Since I can barely take care of myself, I am very proud to say that they are growing like weeds. I feel like a proud parent.

OK- this is pathetic. But we have named them. Hey! I don't have kids, or pets, or even another plant in my place. Lay off. But we DO have: Red Wood, Tinker, Oscar, Apricot, Bert, Peanut, Gorgon (Gorgy) and Gumball.