I am always devastated when we lose a tree.
Our apple tree, the source of many apples, recipes, and resulting blog posts, was riddled with bugs for many years. It hung in there, but branch by branch, slowly withered away (a tree man told me I could put some pesticide on it, but then the apples would be poisoned -- what a dilemma there).
One Friday evening, I was working on dinner as always, when I heard a CRRRAAAACKKKK in the front yard and looked out to see the tree's best branch slowly falling to the ground.
Handy drove up at just about the same time. We all trooped out to look at the tree. Ernest said bluntly, "I'm not digging THAT stump." Previous stump digging experience here.
But he was eager to wield a power tool.
Just lean into it, says Handy.
Since there was no stump digging
(although if I have a tree guy come out for another tree I might have it ground down because I think I might like a gazebo there even though my gazebo idea didn't click with anyone else...YET)
we went with a birdbath.
The raccoons knocked over Ernest's little birdbath too many times and it was so broken I had to toss it, so the birds will be happy with this addition.
And here are the only apples I was able to save. That's not even a pie's worth.
Maybe a memorial applesauce.