Dealing with Cedar-Apple Rust in Your Backyard

Taking good care of the plants in your backyard can bring you great satisfaction.On the other hand, it also offers a good deal of challenges. Occasionally, you could come upon strange things that leave you scratching your head. Recently, a Reddit user from Oklahoma found something unusual in their trees: a significant quantity of yellow jelly and what they referred to as a “jelly alien nut.” Confused and curious, they turned to the online community for answers.

This mysterious phenomenon was determined to be caused by cedar-apple rust. To complete its life cycle, it requires two hosts; apples and crabapples are the most common hosts. Although the name implies cedars are involved, juniper trees can also be affected.

How to Identify Apple-Cedar Rust

The symptoms of cedar-apple rust vary depending on the type of tree it infects. On the twigs of juniper bushes, brown, persistent galls may develop. When spring weather turns damp, these galls grow orange gelatinous horns. The juniper host is unaffected, however the twig farther away from the gall may die.

The leaves of apple or crabapple trees get circular yellow blemishes shortly after they bloom. As summer progresses, these lesions turn into brownish tufts of threads or cylindrical tubes. They are hidden beneath the blotches on leaves, twigs, and fruits.


Understanding Life Cycle

Now, you might be wondering how long this ailment lasts. Well, galls start to form seven months after the initial disease. After eighteen months, they turn into gelatinous lumps. The galls produce golf-ball-shaped depressions from which telial horns emerge the following spring. When it rains in the spring, the brownish telial horns spread out and become a vivid orange color. When they release their spores, the horns eventually droop, dry out, and fall off. After they die, the galls remain attached to the tree for as least a year. The infection is most noticeable in the spring when the galls are covered in gelatinous masses.

Managing Cedar-Apple Rust

Fortunately, there isn’t much of a treatment for this infection. Cut off the afflicted areas to prevent the illness from spreading. It’s crucial to keep in mind that cedar-apple rust won’t kill your trees—it will only damage the plants’ aesthetics. If you would rather be proactive, you can use fungicides or select apple cultivars that are resistant to this disease.

To sum up

In conclusion, even though you might not often see cedar-apple rust in your backyard, your trees are not in grave danger. It’s essential to comprehend this infection so that, in the event that it materializes, you can respond appropriately. Tell people about this information so they too can recognize and understand cedar-apple rust. I’m toasting to your productive gardening!

My Stepmom Gifted Me a Funerary Urn for My 17th Birthday

I always knew my stepmom, Monica, wasn’t exactly the nicest person—annoying, yes, but not evil. She was the type who would talk over me, forget my birthday, and call me “kiddo” even though I was practically an adult.

But what she did on my 17th birthday? It was the final straw.

It all started after my mom, Sarah, passed away when I was ten. After that, it was just me and Dad. We were a team—movie nights, pizza dinners, and a mutual understanding that we had each other’s backs, always.

Then Monica came along about three years ago. She wasn’t the worst, just kind of… there. She moved in, slowly took over the bathroom with her endless beauty products, and managed to inch her way into Dad’s life, whether I liked it or not.

Monica had dreams—big dreams—of opening a hair salon. I didn’t have a problem with people having dreams, but I had my own, too, and she treated me like I was an inconvenience that came with the house.

But I had a plan. College was my way out, and Dad had promised me from the time I was little that there was a college fund waiting for me. “Your mom and I set it up when you were five, Lila,” he’d say. “It’s all there, and I add to it every year.”

So, I worked hard in school, counting down the days until I could leave for college and start a life of my own.

On the morning of my 17th birthday, I wasn’t expecting much. Maybe some pancakes, a card—Dad was at work, so it was just Monica and me. But when Monica handed me a gift bag, things took a weird turn.

Inside the bag was a pink funerary urn. Yes, you read that right. An urn.

I stared at it, completely confused. “What the hell is this?” I asked.

Monica leaned against the kitchen counter, a smug look on her face. “It’s symbolic,” she said as if that explained anything.

“Symbolic of what?” I asked, already feeling a sinking feeling in my stomach.

Monica smiled wider. “It’s time to bury your college dreams, kiddo. Your dad and I decided to put that fund to better use.”

“Better use?” I repeated, my heart racing.

“Yep. We used it to help me open my salon. College is a gamble, Lila. But a business? That’s a real investment.”

I was frozen. Had they really taken my future, my college fund, and sunk it into Monica’s dream? How could my dad have let this happen?

“Life’s full of disappointments,” she added, as if that was supposed to be comforting.

I ran upstairs and slammed my door, sobbing harder than I ever had. Everything I’d worked for, everything my mom had wanted for me, was gone.

For the next few days, I barely spoke to either of them. Monica pranced around like she owned the house while I sat with the urn on my desk, a twisted reminder of what I had lost.

Then, a few days later, something strange happened.

When I got home from school, there was a note on my desk in Monica’s messy handwriting: Meet me at the salon at 6 P.M. tonight. No questions. Just trust me.

I almost laughed. Trust her? After what she did?

But my curiosity got the better of me, and against my better judgment, I went.

When I arrived at the salon, the lights were off, but the door was unlocked. Hesitant, I stepped inside. There, in the middle of the room, were Monica and my dad, both grinning.

“Surprise!” Monica shouted.

I was speechless.

“Look,” Monica said, stepping aside to reveal a shiny new sign on the wall: Dream Cuts: A Scholarship Fund in Honor of Sarah.

“What is this?” I asked, completely lost.

Monica’s smile softened. “We didn’t use your college fund, Lila. It’s all still there. The salon isn’t just for me—it’s for you, too. And for others like you. A portion of the profits will go toward funding scholarships in your mom’s name.”

I blinked, feeling like the ground was shifting beneath my feet.

“But… why make me think otherwise?” I asked, still trying to wrap my head around it.

Monica winced. “Yeah, the urn thing… That was not my best idea. I thought it would be motivational, like burying the past and embracing the future. Turns out, it was just creepy.”

Dad stepped forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve been planning this for months. Your mom always wanted to help kids get to college. This way, her dream lives on.”

I stood there, stunned, my anger melting into something softer.

Monica looked at me earnestly. “I’m not trying to replace your mom, Lila. I just want to build something meaningful, something that helps you and others. I know I haven’t been the best stepmom, but I hope this can be a fresh start.”

For the first time in a long time, I smiled.

It wasn’t perfect, and maybe things with Monica never would be. But in that moment, standing in a salon named for my mom, I realized she wasn’t trying to destroy my future—she was trying to honor it in a way I hadn’t expected.

And yeah, I kept the urn. I planted peace lilies in it. Maybe it wasn’t the symbol Monica had intended, but it had become something new. A symbol of hope.

What would you have done in my shoes?

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