Join Me in Snarkville

…scream “T-I-M-B-E-R”

Oh yes, I have just cut down my very first tree. And I’m bouncing with glee. No seriously.

First, I have to say that I’ve FINALLY done something I’ve wanted to do since we moved into Frankenhouse — I climbed the hill behind my house. And the worst thing about it is that it wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. Oh, sure it is greater than a 45 degree angle and the first 10 feet or so has an apple tree that grows low near the ground (not hard when the ground is rising to meet you). But armed with clippers in my back pocket, gloves on my hands (did I mention the blackberry bushes? oh, yes and there’s a holly bush behind the apple tree too — what the heck did the owners like about plants with ‘pokies*’ on them?), and a hacksaw — I climbed the hill.

Now at this point you are asking yourself, “Queen, what was so important that you had to climb a hill, wield a saw, and cut down much of a tree all by yourself? Couldn’t Prince do it? Couldn’t you have ignored it?” In reverse order:

1. We’ve ignored it for too long and it was no longer ignorable.

2. Prince was not home and didn’t really want to do it and he might have mentioned that it would take me days and I’d really need a chainsaw and the thought of wielding a chain saw on even ground gives me the hives, so the thought of carrying it up there, turning it on, and cutting something down just about made me faint.

3. I need my TV.

So, yes, I climbed the hill and cut down a tree in the name of couch potatohood. You see, we have DirectTV. We have a dish ill placed (hello, this is Frankenhouse where nothing is in the best place for it, but is instead the lazy place) at the low corner of our roof. We also have this mountain full of trees in the back yard. Come to find out, trees GROW. This is especially true of Eucalyptus trees, who not only grow too tall have a tendency to just fall over. We have two stumps in the back that have sprouted trees again (I have a feeling this house has had a problem with these trees before). Well, the smaller crop seems to be problem (though as of this typing I’m too scared to turn the TV on to check lest I’ve just cut down the wrong set AND perhaps would have to go back up the hill and do it all again.) So, since camp is a whole hour longer today and I got some work done this morning. I rewarded myself not with quiet knitting or a shower, but by donning gear and climbing the mountain.

Yes, there was a moment up the hill with a saw (which for the record is completely different than up a creek without a paddle, but no less scary), that I thought “this is rather dumb, I’m up here, no one from the house — which is empty — could see me and I have a saw. A saw, I’m not entirely sure how to use.” But what the heck, since when has ignorance and bravado not gotten me into worse trouble?

So, I begin to saw at a random trunk. Briefly, I thought “Prince is right, this is going to take all day.” Then I spotted a trunk that was already leaning pretty hard and I cut on that a bit. I had it on the ground in a few minutes and thought, ok, now I know how to attack. Slowly, but surely, I keep sawing — sometimes wondering if a butter knife would have been faster — but one trunk feel, then another and another. I cut about 6 separate trunks down the smallest of which was about 3″ in diameter — the largest at least 6″. I learned that the reason these trees have a habit of just falling is that they are rather soft wood and thus I only had to cut halfway though and then push REALLY hard.

The last two trunks I cut were the largest and both fell with a satisfying “CRACK.” I wanted to jump for joy, but knew I’d land on my ass. So, I did what any girl would do. I threw the tools down the hill and slowly made my way down (without sliding on my butt). Then promptly called Prince and told him I cut down a tree and it didn’t fall on the house!!!

I’m high on adrenaline now. And in need of a shower.

*Pokies are any plant that has spikes/thorns/or is otherwise pointy.  This is Duke’s word and I like it, so I keep it.