Day 2
I met another neighbor today, Monnie (pronounced like Lonnie but with an M). She knocked on my door at 8am, sending Nefret through the metaphorical ceiling. She told me Louis & Beverly, the owners of The Tree, are in Florida for three more weeks, and then wanted to know what my plan was for moving it. I didn't have a coat, shoes, or socks on so I didn't know how much of a chat I was expected to have. Before I could answer she launched into a plan involving her tractor, a log chain, and something about horses, but did I know what those wires were and could I call somebody and have them tell me.
I'm not used to being on the receiving end of random kindness so I tend to over-analyze and distrust it. Monnie was just being kind but I was freezing. I took her phone numbers and gave her mine and told her I was planning to hook The Tree to the back of my Explorer and pull it over to Louis & Beverly's side of my driveway and that if I had any trouble I would call her. She heard, "When I get ready to move it I'll call you and we'll do this together." She wanted to talk about wires and her dislike of chainsaws and horses again but I was freezing and we said goodbye. Somehow that whole exchange took thirty minutes.
It's now 10:30 and I'm recharging my phone again. The landscape is absolutely beautiful: if I had power I'd be set. Amy is planning on coming tonight, so that would be the trifecta right there. (Whatever the hell that means. I'm not so solid on my arcane sports terminology.) But I have no power, it's 47 degrees in the house and dropping, and there's this big fuck off tree gating my particular community of one. My intention (it would be putting on airs to call it a "plan") is to drag The Tree to the side as far as I can and then shovel clear a spot for Amy to park. Jack across the street has a four-wheeler with a blade on the front, I think, so I may ask him to help me out.
I met another neighbor today, Monnie (pronounced like Lonnie but with an M). She knocked on my door at 8am, sending Nefret through the metaphorical ceiling. She told me Louis & Beverly, the owners of The Tree, are in Florida for three more weeks, and then wanted to know what my plan was for moving it. I didn't have a coat, shoes, or socks on so I didn't know how much of a chat I was expected to have. Before I could answer she launched into a plan involving her tractor, a log chain, and something about horses, but did I know what those wires were and could I call somebody and have them tell me.
I'm not used to being on the receiving end of random kindness so I tend to over-analyze and distrust it. Monnie was just being kind but I was freezing. I took her phone numbers and gave her mine and told her I was planning to hook The Tree to the back of my Explorer and pull it over to Louis & Beverly's side of my driveway and that if I had any trouble I would call her. She heard, "When I get ready to move it I'll call you and we'll do this together." She wanted to talk about wires and her dislike of chainsaws and horses again but I was freezing and we said goodbye. Somehow that whole exchange took thirty minutes.
It's now 10:30 and I'm recharging my phone again. The landscape is absolutely beautiful: if I had power I'd be set. Amy is planning on coming tonight, so that would be the trifecta right there. (Whatever the hell that means. I'm not so solid on my arcane sports terminology.) But I have no power, it's 47 degrees in the house and dropping, and there's this big fuck off tree gating my particular community of one. My intention (it would be putting on airs to call it a "plan") is to drag The Tree to the side as far as I can and then shovel clear a spot for Amy to park. Jack across the street has a four-wheeler with a blade on the front, I think, so I may ask him to help me out.