Wednesday, June 17, 2009


I'm sitting in my dining room, watching a team of tree guys cut down five of the trees in my yard. When we moved in, we had 10 tall pines, each about 50 years old. They weren't looking particularly healthy, but they added a great deal of character to the yard. A very dry summer a couple of years back did some of them in though, and I guess character lost out to safety as we've been a little shaken up by projectile branches smashing into our house during some of the crazy wind storms we've had this spring. So down they come. Despite my sadness over my slightly more barren looking yard, I can't help but smile at the memory of that scene from Fargo every time I pass by the front window and see the wood chipper in my driveway. At least there's that.

The trees in my yard were one of those things that gave me something to brag about. "Sure, my '80's, suburban house has no personality and needs work, but look at those trees!" Now I'm gonna need something else to feel superior to those urbanites who outbid us on the midtown houses that we desperately tried to buy back in the day. I guess with all that freshly opened up space, I can accommodate a massive flock of pink flamingos:
Nope. No feeling of superiority yet. I'll keep trying.

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