When I told my mom what folks on the east coast would pay for this little beauty, she snorted. Then there was a pause. Then she got a fiery look in her eyes and starting bodily guarding it from other potential buyers. Can I just say? My mother never raised her voice or hand to me. That fiery look? Enough to make me poop my pants.
I trimmed the red-twig dogwood trees before planting them (to encourage new growth). Wasn't I clever to reuse the trimmings as a decoration?