Tree Hell 

When we think of trees, most times what come to mind is something like this:

It's green, serene and not at all unsettling.  I grew up with trees like this.  Some had acorns, some had pine leaves and pine cones, some had flowers.  Even when they were sick, they were not the stuff of nightmares.

Since I moved south, I gained an appreciation for another type of tree:

Again, peaceful and serene.  Even in a hurricane, thrashing in a breeze, they don't have a murderous disposition.  I like trees.  I like the shade and the shelter they provide the wildlife.  What I don't like, however, are the murderous death trees in my backyard.

What is a murderous death tree, you may ask?  It's something that looks less like the above and more like the below.

Every branch of this skinny, twisted, murder-plant is waiting to fall on my head at any moment.  I have eleven of these in my back yard.  Eleven!

The twelfth tree is different.  It is not a skinny, twisted, murder-plant.

It is a fat, twisted, murder-plant.

So I was determined to rid myself of these death trees.  After a couple of years and barely surviving a hurricane without a direct tree hit, I managed to gather enough cash and schedule a tree guy.  We planned and arranged and I had him set to come out on Monday.

Monday came and he did not arrive.  I called him.  He explained that he had run into a snag at the job before mine.  He said he would be by in the afternoon or the next morning.  Tuesday came, still no tree guy.  He let me know he was now delayed by a truck problem, but for sure he would be by in the morning.

He came Wednesday around 9:30 am - for about five minutes.  That's when the wackadoo neighbor told him to leave because they wanted to sleep in and didn't want to hear the noise.  He felt he had no choice and left.

What the hell?  Why would anyone even do that?

The thing is, the trees threaten that neighbor's house, too.  So to send the contractors away was not just rude and annoying, but idiotic on their part.  But since they are tenants and don't own the place, I guess they just don't give a crap.  I called the landlord of the place, who was confused why the contractor would even talk to them.  It shouldn't matter.  These are their tenants, they need to get these people in line.  I think she didn't want to deal with it.  That's her prerogative.   But now if a tree attacks their house, no longer my problem.

So Monday, we try again.  Hopefully, no crazy neighbor drama this time.  I'm crossing my fingers.

 

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