Basically, it started late at night, when I lay trying to sleep, while my brain did cartwheels and backhand-springs and decided to think of EVERYTHING that I did not possibly need to think of when trying to sleep. The result was I started thinking about the massive pine near my front lawn. This tree has been a -problem- for years. It sits there, with its branches all long and unkempt, two branches try to hit the house when the wind blows, and the central branch sticks out across the lawn right at eye level, so when mowing or feeding you get a face full of pine.
The PROBLEM is that this tree is one INCH over the property line. Technically, that means it isn't ours. TECHNICALLY that means we have to ask the aging reclusive neighbors (who I believe MUST be vampires) to cut the branch. This does not please me.
So while I lay there, my brain treated me to a nirvana vision of how beautiful the lawn would look if I hacked off the three offending branches, how I'd be free to walk beneath the tree without bodily injury, how I could set out a bird bath, and the sun would shine, and the roses would bloom, and everything would be PERFECT.
It makes perfect sense. The branches must DIE.
This focus did not abate in the morning.
Tweet: "I want a laser scalpel that can cut tree branches. IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?"
The internet failed to instantly provide me with laser weapons, so I started googling chainsaws, and arguing with Hubby, who was home that day.
Tweet: "Don't you think I DESERVE a chain saw? Your pregnant wife needs a chain saw!" "My pregnant wife, with the chainsaw, in the conservatory."
I swear it's like he DOESN'T UNDERSTAND the IMPORTANCE of cutting these branches. THEY ARE MOCKING ME.
When he realized I was serious, he became surprisingly adamant about NOT buying a chainsaw. He said it was too expensive. (Twitter said he was afraid. Twitter also said he was wise not to arm me. TWITTER LIES.)
But with the endless persistence of a woman ON A MISSION I convinced him to go to the hardware store. To find a more 'cost effective solution'.
Tweet: Guys, guys, GUYS! I HAVE A MACHETE NOW! IT'S AWESOME!
It was the machete or a handsaw. Have I mentioned I love SWORDS? And I have some? And I always WANTED a machete? We got a machete, and an early dinner, then we came home for a nap... Despite the fact that I wanted to DECLARE WAR ON TREES.
I couldn't sleep, but Hubby did. Which may not have been in his best interest.
Steve takes pity on my husbands sanity. Why does everyone think Hubby is so sane? HE married ME. I think that speaks for itself.
But Hubby was a good sport. Which led to a photo op.
|I do not look like a crazy person.|
Tweet: dude. Tree branches are hard to saw through. In other news I'm covered in sawdust.
I started with a small branch... AND WAS VICTORIOUS. But the big branch is STILL there. It's too big for the machete, and too high for me to want to spend an HOUR sawing away at it. So we've come back to this:
Tweet: Hubby says I can't BUY a chainsaw, but I can BORROW one. WHO WANTS TO LOAN ME ONE?
Thus far, the internet has not obliged me.
It's Thursday, one week since I got my machete. I had three trees that needed pruning. The Big branch, my nemesis, the driveway-bitch (a bow that makes a point of hitting me in the face when I walk past the car. EVERY SINGLE TIME), and the Dog Tree, who's branches grab at my hair every time I take the dog to her spot to pee.
THE DRIVEWAY-BITCH IS DEAD! With sawing of my machete, and sheer brute force, I have declared VICTORY over that branch. For added measure I killed a dozen small dead branches on the BIG Tree, (where the big branch must die), and a moderately thick dead branch I sawed off.
|My Victim... or Trophy.|
|I am the slayer of trees.|