“The lady”  would be me — and Son gave me the most fun part of the job!

Tree Pulling Event

My job was to tug on this yellow rope until the tree fell down.   Well, to tug on the rope in order to steer it while it fell down.

Son — sometimes known as Chainsaw Man —  appeared yesterday ready to take down that last doomed  pine tree before the professional crew came.   He sawed through the trunk —  and I tugged  —  and suddenly the rope went slack as the distance between me and the tree rapidly decreased!   I have a  feeling the tree fell where it wanted to.      But I helped it.


I’ve never seen anyone zip through a tree so fast.  This was late yesterday afternoon, which means darkness was coming fast,  but Son made that whole tree  practically “disappear.”

And then, early this morning,  the Crew arrived.


A whole bunch of noisy trucks, and one of them had to squeeze into a narrow space on the side of my house.

I wondered how they’d drive a heavy truck back there.


They made their own “road”  and backed slowly into that narrow space to take down a dead wild cherry that threatened my garage.


We had several tall trees to take down and two to trim overhanging branches from.


Really, really tall trees.


And then the big one, our longtime “friend”  —  Piece by piece it came down, each piece dropping to the ground with a great thud.



And there it lay . . .  in giant pieces.     It was blocking the view right as you go out the front door.   It did seem like an obstacle.   It was getting crowded out by the bigger oaks around it.      But…       For thirty years.    For thirty years I’ve had to peek around it in order to see straight out….    It was always there, in the way.     There’ll  be a big void there now.     A big empty space.

I can’t put it back.    And it’s what we wanted, when we weren’t feeling sentimental.

It was fun pulling down trees.     Just not the one that was ten feet from my very own front door.

Son and I worked late into the evening to move these big logs out of the way —  I mean,  to move all this firewood out of the way.


This was a noisy day.      Truck engines.    Roaring chain saws of all sizes.      Impossibly loud chipping machines turning the branches into tiny bits.     Thuds.  Cracks.  Crashes.   And then there was Son, bursting into the house, with his outside voice:   “Where’s my axe?”   “I can’t find my axe.”    “Have you seen my axe?”       “I looked all over for it.”     ( Truly,   a man without an axe.)

I was going to offer him my Blue Axe,  but . . .   it’s lady size.    I came out to the garage with him.    He suddenly lurched forward and shouted out: ” There it is!!”     He picked up his huge axe.  It’s size would have embarrassed my Blue Axe.     He turned to me with a big happy smile:   “I looked there before and here it is!!!”

Spoken like a true Viking Son.

Chop!  Hack!   Bang!   Thud!   Chips flying all over.       We’re in business again.      A man and his axe.

Viking Axe


Explore posts in the same categories: Domestic Chores, Humor, Vikings

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