I have been annoyed with something for quite some time now. It is not a person (though there are many I could name) and it is not even an event. It is a holly tree. I have this holly tree near the end of my walkway from my house to the parking area of my driveway. It is high enough to not be noticed as you walk by, but low enough to prick you head. OW! It also has this bad habit of dropping it thorny leaves upon the walk. My daughter really dislikes the “pokey leaves”. She even has asked me to carry her to the porch to avoid them. To be honest I really dislike the “pokey leaves” too. For those of you without the experience, imagine walking barefoot (yep we are definitely Southern here) and happen to step on one of these. You get the pleasure of near bee sting pain. In addition, upon raising your foot to examine the villain responsible for said pain, the dang leaf will stay hung in your skin. What type of morbid tree is this?
So today I decided that I’ve had enough of the “pokey leaf” tree and the debris that it “leaves” around. I dug out my not-so-trusty Poulan chainsaw, and prepared for the event. I have a friend that really dislikes this brand of anything that they produce. He actually calls them “Pollock chainsaws”. I was given this saw by my father after he had aptly wore it out. I have since wore it out again and the constant wearing out is starting to take it’s toll. As I began this project, the saw started up beautifully. Yayyy! I then checked the surrounding to ensure that my 3 year old daughter was not around to “help”. She means well but this was not the time. I began to cut into the tree only for the saw to jam and shut down. Aw, man. I then pull the rope and oh yeah, the dang thing would not start back. So now here is the dilemma, I have a half cut tree and a saw that will not start back. Geez. I cannot leave this in it’s current situation, so I hunt for an axe. After much searching and declaring that the tree has obviously hidden the axe out of my reach, I get a mattock. My dad bought this one. He nicknamed it “Baby”. This was sort of like naming some big ole’ boy “Shorty”. This was the heaviest and biggest mattock that he could find. I believe that some cultures use this type of mattock to bring boys into manhood. I love to watch people try to use this after they lay down their “baby mattock”. The grunts and groans and sheer stubborn determination is hilarious.
So I begin to “axe” away with the mattock. I have not done this in a while and it really showed. I swung and chipped and swung some more. After getting the tree quite a bit farther, I decided it was time to beg the saw for mercy and hope it would start again. Dang stubborn saw, PLEASE! It was not buying it. After more chopping and cussing about the saw, the tree finally gave way. THUD! Suddenly the realization of what to do with the tree came to me. One cannot cut little limbs with a mattock. PLEASE saw, I did not mean it about you being stubborn…really. Oh thank heavens it started. If I had not been holding a tool of mass destruction I would have danced. I promptly cut the limbs off and cut the trunk into smaller, manageable sections. Praise be to the power saw! We carried off the cut up tree while Rory pointed out every limb that escaped our tugging into the woods. Then we looked at what we had done and were satisfied. Until…..dum dum dum dum. Becky says that the tree stump looks like it would not take much to get out. “Are you crazy? It would take a back hoe to get that out now.” She disagreed. sigh. So we dug, pulled, cut, and hooked up not one, but two come-a-longs to the left-over stump. Yea, that baby is not going anywhere. I like the stump. Sour grapes and all that.
Now we have gotten rid of the tree and are planning on replacing it with a more “foot friendly” one. I just have to decide what to put there. That will be more digging and cutting and hauling I am sure. I hope my feet really appreciate this effort.
