Joyce Kilmer was right

I am sure that I will never see a poem as lovely as a tree. And now I have five new pieces of evidence to back me up.

Our trees came finally this week,

Luckily for us, Emily (in the hat near the ramp) was there to oversee the planting. As they unloaded the trees, the arborist noticed that our red maples were in fact sugar maples. A call to the nursery confirmed this and also got a truck on the road with the red maples.

Here are one of the red maples and the one sugar maple (I think). They went in the front. Notice the burlap wrapping. The city requires burlap-wrapped roots, and the trees were delayed last week when the nursery sent over plastic-wrapped trees. I hope that burlap is significantly better, and it was not just an issue of plain- and star-bellied sneeches.

This is the second red maple. It is in the side yard and is really big already, I mean for new trees. I have already been told I am not allowed to climb any trees. That is so bogus and I am totally pretending I was too deaf to hear it. We so have a date with destiny when you grow a bit, Red.

This is the tulip poplar going in. Hopefully it will grow as big as the one in Gram's side yard was. Of course, I doubt I'll live to see it ... unless my experiments into dark magic allow me to shed this mortal coil yet not truly die. I would exist unencumbered by life's little problems, like why Katy Perry never plays on my iTunes when it is on shuffle.

This is the red oak. Mom pointed out that it is joining another oak on our property and also a bunch of little oak trees Mom rescued from our yard.

They trim dudes almost finished the trim, and they are nearly done with the steps. Miked and Emily, as always, spent the day out back working on stuff. I babysat Goof No. 1 today by napping in the same room she was playing computer in.