I've forgotten the name of one I left out the last 3 winters after taking it into a root cellar for 12 years. never got a fruit from it. It died this winter also- it may have been Jiro. It was a good sized tree so I expect some suckers I can graft onto. I had a Sheng from Nick England that gave me fruit the second year, but I think I over taxed it and it died the winter before last even though I sheltered it. I have another he raves about that I will protect as long as it eventually gives me fruit but after one season it is still tiny.

Ah, the industrious squirrels! I've had oak seedlings and pecan seedlings -- very tenacious. After trying mechanical means and failing, I resorted to a more devious method that was quite successful. There is a product called Vinex, which I believe is a brand name for triclopyr. Don't be fooled by the name -- Vinex is a systemic herbicide that kills a lot more than vines. It comes with a little built-in applicator. All you have to do is paint a couple of inches of the stem (or is it already a trunk?), the closer to the ground the better. If you apply as directed, the only thing it kills is the offending seedling. It is a powerful herbicide that should only be used in very small doses. One giant caveat -- whatever you do, don't get it on anything else in the garden, including the ground itself. It would be the equivalent of giving a sniper a machine gun for a weapon. My local nursery carries it, but not all do. Good luck -- and wear gloves when you use it.

You know, mine doesn't look like all that much. People would never, ever guess the variety I have out there, though, well over 70 different kinds of plants! Everything I did was on a much smaller scale than the average winter sower would do. I have a couple of lasagna pans with 13 different kinds of flowers in each, and then some kitty litter pans with 12 types in each. I guess normally that would be about 50 jugs? I also have quite a few water bottles and a dozen or so jugs. The gallon size jugs have at least four varieties in each. Most of it fits in my 3x5 cold frame.

I've read through many of the messages posted here and am so glad I found this site. On August 1 (yes, just a few weeks ago), me and my girlfriend had to put our beloved Siberian Husky, Cinnamon, to sleep. She was 15 and a half years old. We had found her in a pet shop when she was eight weeks old and it was love at first sight. We both cried like babies when we had to say goodbye to her. We knew she was old (especially for a dog her size) and I thought I was prepared because she had been showing many signs of advanced age in her final months. Then about a week before we had to put her to sleep, we discovered she had cancer. I knew the time was coming so I tried to be ready for the inevitable. But I found that this was not the case. I still think of her almost constantly and the tears have not stopped. I have gone through the deaths of my parents and others I have known and loved but dealing with the death of my dog has been much harder. I really didn't know why until I started looking for answers on the internet. True dog lovers, as many people have stated, love their dogs as part of the family. Cinnamon was definitely part of the family. She became our second child. One incident that cemented that fact occurred when she was two years old. We had gone to a friend's reception (he had his wedding overseas but came back to the States to have his reception so family and friend could attend). We stayed at his parents house and they had told us that it was okay to bring Cinnamon. They all loved Cinnamon and showered tons of attention on her. For anyone that has had a Siberian Husky, they know that huskies cannot be watch dogs as they love everyone, including strangers. Because of this, I tended to believe that she didn't care who she was with as long as they gave her attention. She proved me wrong. After the reception, we were preparing to drive home and we were packing the car for the trip home. My son, my girlfriend and I were all outside while Cinnamon was waiting inside. She started howling because she thought we were going to leave her behind and wouldn't stop howling until we brought her outside with us. We knew then that we were her family and she wanted to be with us. Through the years, she has always been here. Now that she is gone, I just feel a huge hole in my life. All the routines we had with her are gone. Daily walks, which she loved and pretty much demanded are no more. Watching her sleep always comforted us. Now, that is gone. Stroking her beautiful coat and hugging her, gone. Seeing her 'husky' smile which in turn made us smile, gone. Just a few of the things that made her who she was. I felt so guilty at first because I could hear what some people would say, "She's just a dog. How can you miss her more than your parents?" And being a man, I have to go hide somewhere and cry when thoughts of Cinnamon overwhelm me. But after reading through many of these posts, I realize that I am definitely not alone in my feelings. I know it's going to take a long time before the tears stop flowing and the hurt diminishes. I know that right now, it is way too soon to have another pet in my life and not really sure I want to go through the agony of a pet's death again. I know life goes on and I am trying to find things to fill the emptiness of not having my dog around. She can't ever be replaced but we made a small shrine where her urn, a plaster paw print, some of her soft fur, and pictures of her are kept. Just like bobbyprior posted above, I know that huge hole that exists now with the passing of Cinnamon. Everyone, that came here to find words of comfort, I empathize with you. Posting here really helps with the grief. I pray for all of you and know that even though your beautiful pet is gone, they will always be in your heart and mind. Dwell on the happy memories and try to remember that if your pet was still here and they could talk, they would tell you that you still need to live your life and try to be happy and good toward others. Thanks to all of you that have read my ramblings and I wish you comfort in your loss.