Whenever we travel to Roseville to visit Holly’s mom, we stay in a hotel we call the Blue Oak (even though that’s not its name, it should be) because the building was constructed around a spectacular grandmother oak. On our recent visit we were saddened to learn that our revered grandmother died this winter. We had worried about her as the drainage was never good and water would collect at her roots. Oaks require good drainage to thrive, and after two weeks of steady rain, the behemoth toppled. She was estimated to be 300 years old. We mourn her passing.