A 60' Washington Palm on the tree lawn of our City House that I was sitting under this afternoon. It was probably planted around the time this house was built in 1925. Sometimes the flower stalks or palm fronds from this giant fall near you - and sometimes on you. You can hear the sound, but you don't know where it's coming from, and then WHUMP! You look at it and thank your lucky stars you weren't standing in the wrong place.
Fortunately that didn't happen today.
I was sitting there because RetroMan and I were trimming a Camphor tree in our front yard.
Rather, I was directing from under the palm tree and he was doing the work.
He used our two chain saws, Mutt and Jeff.
They were bought from Pawn Shops by Dumb and Dumber (I'm Dumber) - the second to be used for parts for the first. The love/hate relationship with these two things is worthy of a blog all by itself, but I'll spare you.
Being a really cool Tree Farmer and all, I thought I'd figure out how old the branch was.
Ok, never mind.
Then I asked RetroMan what he was going to do with all of the branches.
"Take them up to the Farm and burn them."
"What? You're going to take these 120 miles just to burn them?"
"Yeah. We need a lot of wood for the bonfire."
"We have 60 thousand trees on that Tree Farm, and a lot of them are dead. We can even cut more down if we have to."
"No, we should leave the trees on the Tree Farm alone."
I mean for real. Is there a Doctor for someone who owns a Tree Farm and doesn't want to cut down trees?
Well, I guess there's hope. He did trim a tree today.