Saturday, June 30, 2012

Because blogging is theraputic, damnit

So is chopping down trees.

I think. I can't say for certain because I have never actually chopped down a tree. I tried to take one down once with my pocket knife. It was harder than it looked. I was determined. I can't remember if I actually accomplished my task or if someone gave me a larger hand saw. They didn't let us play with chainsaws that day.

Actually, I am afraid that if I use a chainsaw, that I will cut off my leg. Or the chain will come flying off and tear off my face. I am not, however, particularly afraid of axes.

Which is why when I finally get around to removing the tree from my front yard, I will use my trusty Polaski. At one point, someone said they would remove the tree with a chainsaw, but it didn't happen. So I will remove it myself. With an axe. Eventually. It's not going to get any deader. And I'm pretty sure it's been dead for almost a year.

There are several things that I think will happen when I try to chop down my tree:

  • I think that the axe will get stuck in the trunk and I will have to go find a stronger person (ahem. a man) to remove the axe. (Men are kind of in short supply right now) Then he will make fun of me for being a girl and either finish chopping down the tree, or point and laugh while I try again, or go get a chainsaw.
  • I will chop into the tree only to discover that the root system has already rotted away and it will fall over. With my axe still stuck in it. Then I will stand there with my hands on my hips and stare.
  • I will chop down the tree and feel all woman powered and tough and shit.
  • I'll miss the trunk and chop my fool foot off.
  • Bullits

Once the tree is down, I don't really know what I will do with it. But I have a feeling it will have more to do with the axe and maybe a lopper.

Then someone can use it for kindling. It's not a very big tree.

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