Mr. Tree

Fascinating bit of entertainment on Friday afternoon.

Mr. Tree himself (”Telesphorus John (Steve)” according to the business card) knocked on our door on Thursday.  He kindly led me on a brief tour of my property and pointed out each treacherously dangling limb and disease-infested branch in sight.  I gasped appropriately as he described the potential horrors that we were setting ourselves up for if we were to allow such ominous foliage to continue to exist around our precious home.

Out came the checkbook.

And the next day, out came the Mr. Tree crew!  The kids and I sat out on the upstairs balcony and watched as the nimble men scampered up oak after pine, chainsaws in hand.  I thought Parker’s eyes were going to bulge out of his head as the saws roared to life and the limbs began to fall.  (Bailey, meanwhile, was more interested in trying to escape my lap to investigate the exact measurement difference between her head and the balcony rails.)  As awesome as it was to see the crew do their thing, nothing can compare to the power of…the wood chipper.  I’ll tell you what, there is no piece of machinery that inspires more gruesome awe and terror.  That thing does not mess around.  I was on the edge of my seat, certain that at any moment, the deceptively cheery-yellow beast would inhale one of the unsuspecting men – I was prepared to throw myself in front of the children to shield their innocent eyes from the carnage.  Fortunately, we were spared from such a display, and the limbs of the crew remained fully intact.  Can’t say the same for the limbs of our trees!  Coming soon, to a paper factory near you…

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