For months, my dad has been fussing at me about a dead tree smack dab in the middle of my front yard. And for months, I have put him off — my original estimate was too high, my second estimate given by a certifiable nut job, and my third (and eventual) tree-cutter found a hard time getting around to my house. “Don’t call me crying in the middle of the night when that thing falls on your house,” he said to me on more than one occasion. And what ensued was the stormiest, windiest spring I ever remember.
Or maybe I was just paranoid.
My arborist (? is that the PC term?) arrived last Thursday with a handful of sketchy looking tree men and a bevy of Hispanics, and it wasn’t long before my 5 condemned trees turned into 11. Oh sure, there were reasons — two had been hit by lightning (along with my bedroom tv — circa 1996. That thing was a gem.) the week before, and others had to come out once those were removed, for aesthetic purposes. All in all, I was pretty pleased with myself when they left Saturday for greener pastures. I had taken care of my duties, and the dead tree was finally gone.
Little did I know I would witness a live chainsaw in my bedroom Monday afternoon, a mere 2 days after spending a small fortune on tree removal.
Mid-afternoon Monday, I overheard my dad talking to the other guys in the office, and I could have sworn I heard my name. Multiple times. But, seeing as how I’m trying this whole “Mind My Own Bidness” thing, I kept on about My Own Bidness. A busy week was laid out before me, and I was gradually making my way down my to-do list. I rounded the corner into the kitchen to get a Diet Coke, and my dad was in front of me.
“Matt just called. You’ve got a tree down in your bedroom..”
He continued on, but my mind went into overdrive. A tree? In my bedroom? But I just took all those trees down! What the hell? He continued on, saying he’d already called some guys to meet us over there, we needed to go, blah blah blah. It took everything I had not to break down and cry.
I called my insurance agent on the way home (Like a good neighborrrrr, State Farm is there!) and Judy sort of talked me through what needed to happen. She also told me that, looking over my policy, I should be covered for just about everything. Times like these, I told her, you wonder where the holes are in your policy. (ba dum ching!)
I talked to Matt next, and it was obvious that he was pretty shaken up. He told me it was bad, to be prepared; that the Devil Cats were fine, under a sofa in my den, scared to death.
“But what about Snoopy?”
Snoopy, too, had made it out safely.
I was not quite prepared for what I would find when I came into Forest Acres, and when I did, it was pretty obvious we’d had one hell of a storm. Trees blocked roads, power lines and poles lay in the street, trees were down on houses — I counted 5 in the mile between Forest Drive and my house. Yards were littered with debris, and people were already back in them, starting the clean up. As I came up on my house, I could see the jagged edge of a tree — three stories up — that was missing its top.
And what do you know, I found that top in the middle of my bedroom!
what a mess
What followed was one hell of an exciting late afternoon full of chainsaws and, surprisingly, laughter. Between my parents, Matt, and three other men, we hauled plaster ceiling and insulation and tree branches and, later, pieces of tree trunk to the street.
trash pile
At one point, upon first entering the house, one of the guys looked at my mom and said, “I’m sorry. This is totally not funny. But I’ve got to take a picture of this.” It was just one of those things you hear of happening to other people, and never actually see. I couldn’t blame him.
I could go into all of the reasons for which I am so lucky and fortunate — it happened while I was at work, no one was hurt, it only went through the ceiling and didn’t damage any walls or ruin all that much of my stuff, it didn’t hit my closet, on and on. I have recounted them for days now, and am truly thankful.
i always wanted a skylight!
But I’d be lying if it wasn’t all just a huge pain in the ass.
And yes, it really hurts my feelings I just cut all those trees down. I might be just a smidge bitter about it.
