All things are born to die. Even trees. This is the last shot of the pin oak my father played under, I played under, and several sets of grandchildren (including my own) have played under.
Cherry picker. Ethan is beside himself watching all the big equipment in his own yard. I am making him stay in the house as it is just not safe when a 70+ foot tree is being taken down. No margin for error, and as we all know, accidents DO happen.
The dozer.
The funny thing is, Andy, aka The DIY Man, is going to keep ALL the wood. The other funny thing is, we are leaving for the beach ..... on Saturday. Today is Thursday. There is no way the DIY Man can get a full trees wood, 70 yo worth, organized and put away.
I am stressed. I want to pack. I really NEED to knit to get settled. So, off I go to do something.
Later, catie
5 comments:
Sorry to see the tree go. Will some of it be reborn into somethin else? Enjoy your trip. Let's get together when you get back.
The loss of your tree reminded me of mine. We had a beautiful maple in the front of my childhood home. I played under it and watched it change with the seasons. Eventually the roots began to interfere with the indoor plumbins so the the tree had to go. I was married and gone when it was time but I was there the day it came down. I couldn't bear to watch. It seemed somehow to symbolize the end of a time of security and innocence that I knew was long gone, never to return. The front of the old homeplace never looked the same after the tree was gone. A few years later my parents moved across town and left me wth only memories of the yellow house on the corner of Spring Street.
I'll have to blog about this subject soon,
love ya,
Jenny
That's sad. Why are they taking down the tree?
Have a great vacation! (I do so understand the loss of a tree like that - sigh)
(((hugs)))
Poor tree. But if it was the time for it to go, it had to go.
At least so many members of your family got to enjoy it's existence.
I noticed your socks, they are wonderful.
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