Last weekend in our backyard…
Me: The tree guy came and took down most of the dead trees in the backyard except for one. He said he would have to come back for that one with different equipment because it was too big.
My Husband: That one by the fence line? That’s no big deal, I can take that down myself.
Me: Uh, I’m pretty sure that the tree expert said it was a particularly difficult removal, so maybe we should leave it to him.
Him: And have him charge us a grand for something I can do with my car and a $5 towrope in an afternoon? No thanks.
Me: But we aren’t allowed to remove any trees without HOA approval that are over six inches in diameter.
Him: That’s close to six inches.
Me: That’s what all men say. Anyway, I really think it’s bigger than you think and too close to the fence.
2 hours later…
Him: I’ve got all of the equipment set.
Me: (Looking at the meager and inadequate supplies.) You have a reciprocating saw, a leather belt and a clothesline. You could probably take down a bonsai tree by Thanksgiving or dry a beach towel with that.
Him: Whatever. You obviously don’t know physics. If I cut it on this side, and anchor it here, and attach a come-along this way, it should fall right into this clearing, missing all structures.
Me: Come-along with me to county jail because if it falls a foot in any other direction it will take out the Opry radio tower. It’s seriously a big tree.
Him: Video killed the radio star, not an old tree with Dutch Elm disease. Let’s get started while no one is working in the community office, mkay?
Me: Fine, but only because you’ve already chipped away at both sides of this trunk like a cartoon beaver and we can’t leave it like that or it will come down on the next jogger with too loud of an iPod that comes down that walking path.
Him: Hopefully, they’ll be biking instead so they’ll be wearing helmets.
A few minutes later, my husband, son and a wide-eyed intern are pulling on different ropes on a tree so large that if it were non-deciduous would be in Rockefeller Center with Rockettes hanging from it. It teeters, shakes, and rocks back and forth until it finally falls at a 90 degree angle away from the intended spot, hitting the swing set before landing against another tree right in front of the new fireplace and patio.
Him: (Emerging from a dust cloud of sawdust, leaves and stray branches) WOOOHOOO! Did I break anything?
Me: (Surveying the impossibly lucky angle that the stupid tree fell against the steel bar of the play set and cradled against another tree while sparing the neighbors fence, the porch, my son’s head, and the Intern’s spirit) Just 46 HOA covenants.
Him: (High-fiving the boys.) 7 less than last weekend!
Me: And my writer’s block.
©2013 Tracey Henry