When the kids were growing up, we had a giant weeping willow tree in the backyard. It was a magnificent specimen with long, graceful branches that swayed in the breeze.

It was also a magnificent mess. Not only did it dance in the wind, it seemed the tree shed constantly-every day, every week, every month of the year. To add insult to injury, every wispy branch that didn't shed slapped you in the face with its serrated leaves when you passed by.

Being that the tree left a constant mess in the yard, when the kids were sassy or needed some consequences, we would send them outside to pick up willow branches. This would sometimes keep them busy for days and weeks at a time.

It was win-win, a very good system until the willow began to rot and we had the tree taken down. The trunk and branches were even bigger on the ground than they were in the sky. We rented a wood splitter and our son split the salvageable wood. This kept him busy the entire summer between his freshman and sophomore year in college.

A few years ago, we lost two maples due to age (theirs not ours). Needing more shade, we planted a Heritage River birch. Even though a river birch can sell itself on good looks and beautiful bark alone, the tag sealed the deal: "This charming tree attracts songbirds and butterflies, while its lush canopy offers cool shade, making it an excellent choice."

What the description neglected to say is that a river birch is merely a weeping willow in disguise.

The real problem now is that all the kids are grown and gone. You don't tell your adult children, who are married and raising children of their own, to get outside and pick up sticks.

We know because we tried.

The two of us are now the ones outside picking up twigs and sticks, bending from the waist, the knees, the left side and the right side, telling each other this qualifies as aerobics.

In a recent email exchange with a reader, she mentioned that her mother used to pay her kids a penny for every stick they picked up from her yard. She said her mother's yard was always full of grandkids trying to "make a buck" picking up sticks.

Interesting idea. But having filled another large trash bag with fallen birch twigs in under an hour, and calculating for inflation, we're not sure we have enough set aside for retirement to cover that amount.

Beauty comes with a price and we're now the ones paying for it.

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