| Poor Unhealthy Doug |
| Before |
The tree people arrived at 8 a.m. and didn't finish until almost 3. I was amazed at their efficiency and coordination. Not only did they have to take down this monster of a tree, they had to direct traffic, split the wood into log size pieces, haul it away, and clean up the gigantic mess left all over the street and my property.
| After |
The last truck rolled away at around 2. I was exhausted just watching the operation which involved, in varying shifts performing different tasks, eight men. They all worked hard, but the poor guy who had to shimmy up my ailing Doug, power saw madly swinging from his leather belt, had the worst job. I hope he got paid extra.
So that's over. I did my best to make the unattractive remains of my once towering, majestic fir blend into the yard by placing a few pottery frogs atop the lonely stump. Soon the ivy will cleverly hide this sawdust covered, stomped on portion of my front yard and Doug will be just a memory.
Oh. The house painters arrive at seven tomorrow morning.
Oh. The house painters arrive at seven tomorrow morning.
