I Am Rubber Redux

So, we had this rubber tree in the atrium. It was unkempt and grew into the roof. We cut it down. It grew back — it… would… not… die.

It's dead now.

Casie spent a good part of Sunday afternoon making sure of this with the help of a few tools: a chainsaw, sawzall, sledgehammer and pick-axe. It was not pretty, but now it's done… after she pulled the heart of the tree out, she chucked it into the street — it was quite dramatic.

Time for part two… since the tree seemed really happy, but simply unkempt, I thought it right to try again. Besides, the house wouldn't seem the same without it. The previous owner's kids admitted that their mom liked the overgrown look and refused to let anyone trim it — and while I don't mind the naturalistic look myself, we'll be keeping an eye on this one.

I stopped by the local nursery and picked up a small version — and while at big-orange, I spied a larger one. So, one is now in the ground and the other in one of the new Ikea pots we recently picked up.

Edit: Benjamin Franklin defines insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. In that sense — what were we thinking planting another rubber tree!? We've since planted a beautiful and slow-growing maple tree in that space and everyone's all the happier. The rubber plants will live in the house in nice containers.