The Old Man's demise

This summer, we bought the house we're now living in. When we toured the house, there were several features that made it "the house we had to have." One of those quirky features was an old pine tree in the front yard that had bent itself over and then over again in an effort to get out from under the huge cottonwoods and get some sun. We named it the Old Man.

Now, for some back story. This last spring and summer in Oklahoma was one of the driest on record. It just didn't rain. And not only that, we hit 100 degrees just about every day in July. There was a severe water shortage, and watering restrictions were put in place. And then at one point, just when we thought it couldn't get worse, two of the town's water mains broke. In consequence, we didn't water this summer.

Some stuff died early, like the annuals in the window boxes on the front of the house. But what surprised us was the Old Man. When we bought the house, he didn't necessarily look good. We knew that there was a fungus attacking the local pines, but we figured he, like the majority of the established pines, would make it. I guess the drought was the last straw for the Old Man, however. In August, he died.

My dear hubby and I hemmed and hawed about how to handle taking down the Old Man. We wanted him to be respected in this death; we wanted to ensure that his ashes went to fertilizing new plots of growth, not be shredded up and forgotten. So we decided that we must do it ourselves, even though several business cards were left at our front door by tree removal services. So my husband assembled a crack team of tree removal experts, and this weekend, we laid the Old Man to rest.

**Hubby's Input**
Although I would NEVER contradict my wife, I do have one clarification to make. When she said assembled a crack team, she simply forgot to conjugate. It was more that I assembled a cracked team.

*Photo coming soon

The first bloke to show was the guy who is now renting our old house. There's a long and obfuscating tale that goes along with him, including pending legal action on who really owns a dog, he or his brother. That will have to wait for another blog...or five. Needless to say, I was glad to have his help, even though the only reason he showed up was to play with the chainsaw. He was quite the trooper, showing up after a long night of drinking and frivolity. Granted, I probably shouldn't have let him operate heavy machinery in his state, but the ensuing work sobered him right up and the consumption of large quantities of water kept the hangover at bay. I'm sure he's in "very much" pain today.

He and I cleared the lowest branches on the trunk. Those familiar with felling trees will remember that when the tree first comes down, if the lower branches hit the ground first, the tree has a tendency to roll as it falls. Looking at the view of the house above, you see I had to keep the Old Man from hitting the light post on one side and cracking the driveway on the other. Lets call it, "between galvanized steel and a hard place."

We cut up the cleared branches and waited for my best friend, the Hobbit (yes, that will require more blogs as well) to show up. He, too, had spent the night carousing. Only, less drinking and more losing money at poker. He said he was going to bring some guy with him to help. I didn't know he meant literally. Seriously, this guy's name was Guy. Guy was actually a great guy to have help. Guy was one of those guys who knew exactly how to handle a chainsaw, probably a farm guy. Guy was a guy's guy. Does your head hurt yet? Ok, I'll stop.

With the new infusion of testosterone, it was time to bring down the Old Man. The notch and back cut were made. The Old Man made one last bow and then laid his old bones to rest. It was sad to see him go. He landed right where we had hoped. A kindly old gentlemen to the last.




















After that, the real work began. Clean-up. I don't' know if I've ever seen that many pinecones. Otherwise, nothing overly remarkable, just a lot of cutting, hauling, and raking to try and get all the pine needles in a pile to be mulched. We plan on using every last bit. The trunk and branches were cut up and stacked to be dried. The sticks and twigs will make great kindling. Some of the nicer pinecones, with sticks and needles attached, will be sold for holiday decorations. One last harrah for the Old Man.

Once we got everything cleaned up, we had to take a picture. We were manly men doing manly things. And then, we washed our hands.
















Ah, the valiant crew poised here with their chosen implements of tree removal. Surprisingly, the Hobbit was not as efficient cutting through the gnarled bows with his crosscut canine. However, the yard was amazingly clear of sticks.