That darn tree

The teens and I spent yet another morning cleaning up a huge pile of logs and wood debris.  More gifts from the darn tree that was cut down.  The yard is finally looking better, except for the fact that we still have one-third of a very tall tree sticking out of the lawn at our otherwise beautiful home.  Our saws are too small to cut it down and my loving spouse has been off working instead of dealing with this annoying situation.  We’re now giving directions to our home by saying, “make a right and when you see the house with half a tree in the yard, you’re there!”

When we moved in we thought this tall tree was a ‘pine’ tree, but then one of my siblings visited and informed us that it was indeed a ‘spruce’ tree.  However, this last weekend one of my other siblings visited and declared it a ‘fir’ tree.  I have two more siblings who have yet to visit, so until that happens, it seems that we won’t be adequately educated as to the exact species of the tree.

Spruce, fir, pine, I don’t really care, I just want the rest of the darn tree out of our yard.  A ‘neighbor’ stopped by who had said he could cut down the tree with his ‘manly man’ saw.  I’m desperate, so I did ask if he was going to cut it down.  He somehow didn’t think I was serious, so I gave his wife “the look”.  Ladies, you know the ‘look’.  It is the one that says ‘don’t even mess with me, because I am as serious as a heart attack’.  His wife knew “the look” and told him he’d be free early the next morning to be here and cut that darn tree down!  I really like her.