Is it Spring?

One branch of an apple tree thought so. Too bad it was already clipped. We'll see if, given water, it might grow a root.

Two apple trees at Mother Comfort's house - Neither one actually planted there, but set in their pots until they outgrew them, split them and reached into the soil with their roots.

Never pruned in their present location, and quite overgrown from it.

One tree producing volumes of beautiful sweet apples, the other small sour yellow ones - A pollinator?

So early this morning, leaving the bird sleeping in at home, the Contraptioneer headed across town to see the trees.

There, with clippers in hand, he asked for Help and listened to what he's heard over his long life . . .
Great Uncle Bud: "When the apples are falling, the leaves will follow - That's the time."
Grandmother C: "Lets hire someone!"
Great-Grandmother C: "Leave something for the birds!"
Grandfather C: "HMMMPH!"
Grandmother S: "Always Ask before each cut. Trim as you would be trimmed."
Grandad S: "Let's ask Bud the next time he's in town."
Mother: "Are you sure you know what you're doing? You're going to hurt yourself! You're going to kill my tree!"
Dad: "______________"

And now, they're all together cheerfully talking amongst themselves, and saying that the kid didn't turn out as bad as they feared he might.

And life is good.
And the Contraptioneer knows peace.
And you know what?
It's not over yet.
~:-)