More Mayhem

I irritably declared a new rule at Glory Farm yesterday.  There will be no cutting down of large trees the week prior to a wedding.  It will be obvious to all who is the Groom’s family, they’re the ones with all the spruce tree scratches on their arms and the occasional bit of sap that stubbornly refuses to wash off.  Just when I should have been relaxing with a mani-pedi, I was actually wheedling the electric chain saw like a lumber Jack’s sister Jane.

Remember that old conundrum? If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a noise?  Well, let me tell you, when a tree falls in the front yard, it not only makes a noise, but more importantly it makes a big mess!  We’ve worked and worked.  The mess is not really any smaller, it is just spread out about the farm more.  Most of the small limbs ready for the ‘slash’ pile.  (Slash is a farm word for trash you are allowed to burn when the wind is not blowing, so in Ellensburg that is not often).  The mid-sized tree limbs cut for fire wood and stacked nicely (on the lawn).  The bottom third of the tree still needs to be cut down and the big trunk of the tree not only still on the lawn but on a power cord, tow strap and various bits of rope.  We had a huge lightning storm here this week. The funny thing is we’ve heard there is a rumor going around that it was the lightning that took our tree down.  No, it was the groom!

Number 2 son (the best man) is here, MUCH to his mother’s delight.  I had visions of enticing him with farm life, unpacking his beloved books and sipping tea on the porch swing.  Instead, he helped to pry open his painted shut windows so his room would cool off, calm down the teen (whose lost her life line… her phone), drive Jubal and haul the damn spruce tree.  We also tried to feed the baby bird the teen rescued, but so far the only one who can do this is Pat as it requires procuring freshly swatted flies to pop in its open mouth.  We did drive out to have a look at the little filly.  Yes, she will be the next addition to the farm as  Pat spoke words I never realized my husband would say, “Honey, you got yourself a horse…I traded a gun for it.”  Number 2 fell in love with a few other horses as well and commented, “Well, we’ve got more guns”.

(Note to city people – we’re in the country it is different here and yes, I married a British Red Neck).