Hacking the Azalea Quince

When Dad died, someone gave Mom an Azalea to honor his memory.  Mom planted it, tended it, cared for it; things didn’t work out.  After a couple years of fighting for and with the plant, it was still just a twig in the yard.  Mom offered it to me; hoping I’d have better luck.

It was just a twig!  I planted it in front of the kitchen window; gave it the usual new-bush care, but didn’t do anything special.  And watched it flourish.  This plant loves my yard; left to its own devices it would grow a couple feet taller each summer.  The birds love it; year ’round, it’s a refuge near enough the feeders for convenience and far enough for protection.  Because it’s so close to the house, we’re always fighting it for space; at least twice a year we cut it back to size.  I’ve been working on that today; first you hack off the worst offenders, then you trim it to a reasonable shape.  I’ve just completed the first step.

Wish I’d planted it farther from the house, so it could reach its full growth.  It’s really a wonderful plant, except a bit problematical.


Addendum 2/7/2011: I’ve learned that the bush is actually a quince, whatever Mom thought. No matter, doesn’t meaningfully change the story.

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