The art of tree liberation

So I got the whole story from my Dad last night. When Tug was in primary school (about 60 years ago) he planted a mandarin pip in a plastic yoghurt pot, of which we no doubt had gazillions, yoghurt pots being one of the main items of it'll come in handy one day rubbish kept at home. He asked, in his little boy voice (not much different from his 47-year old voice) if they could take the seedling to Croatia to plant it.

It was duly planted, about 35 years ago (I imagine, though clearly I'm not doing great with numbers in this blog - this is probably the most accurate one) in a patch on soil known as The Little Garden next to The Shade. When The Shade was rebuilt, the Little Garden disappeared and Dad insisted on replanting the tree into the Main Garden, as he has done with a number of trees (or at least one) from his private Chester garden into the public general Chester area (to be shared by all visually, but harvested only by us, from number 24).

The little Mandarin Tree, now happily replanted was, however, being strangled by the new creepers in the also new Main Garden, so Mama had to engage in Tree Liberation. See below.

Once Tree Liberation had been completed, the Mandarin Tree was able to stand proud and tall (and visible as long as Mama held away the oleander tree which was insisting on being in front). You may notice that it is now almost twice Mama's height, which puts it at a wapping four foot!! :-)

Finally, I would like to add and clarify that this is Tug's Mandarin Tree (he expressed a certain possessiveness over the tree, so I thought I ought to clarify ownership, just in case he got upset).