What Needed to be Done

Posted byrandy@letters-to-rachel.memorialPosted inHome Archaeology, Updates From the Abandoned PlanetTags:, , , , , , , ,

Dearest Rachel –

It’s Monday morning, just like it is every week at this time, and as I reluctantly make my way to the gym, I note to myself that the traffic seems considerably more plentiful and vigorous than it usually does. It may have to do with the fact that I’m not out of the house before eight – a good half hour, if not a full hour, later than I usually am.

This is more than my usual reluctance, though. The sun, while not quite as lazy as I am today (which had better change as the months wear on), is getting up later and later, too; it’s not as bright as early as it was back in June or July, so it doesn’t spur me out of bed and out of the house like it used to. And while its later arrival should lead to this as a consequence, it’s actually surprising to walk outside into the cool of the morning, even at eight o’clock. August isn’t supposed to be this chilly yet, if I remember correctly; it’s why Daniel and I are decamping to cooler climes shortly.

But there’s at least one other thing fueling my current lethargy; my schedule. Or more to the point, other people’s schedules in relation to my own. No, it’s not that I’m seeing more people scurrying hither and yon, leading me to retreat into further lassitude out of an odd combination of gratitude (that I don’t have to) and spite (just to show ’em that I don’t). After a week of having it lying in the middle of the backyard, I was asked by our landscapers if I needed them to clear the tree out, and they’re coming today to deal with it. I’m not sure if I shouldn’t stay home from the ‘office’ today in order to show them what I want, but in any event, this indecision may be contributing to my getting a slow start to the day.

Still, after a backyard party yesterday afternoon (I’d say a pool party, but I didn’t get into the water myself – for the most part, it was too chilly, so I didn’t bother coming dressed to swim. I did wind up refereeing several games of water volleyball, since the beach ball kept getting hit out of the pool, and it was easier for me to retrieve it than anyone in the water to do so) and no formal exercise, I was definitely on the wrong side of two-fifteen this morning, so I finally got myself out there where I needed to be…

…only to discover that the landscapers had already arrived while I was out, and presumably had started in on clearing out the backyard already without my presence or direction. Ordinarily, this is fine; they know their business, after all, so I leave them to take care of what they feel the need to do. But this was an exceptional case, so I figured I’d check in on them…
However, when I got to the backyard, there wasn’t anyone there to check in with. The fallen part of the tree had been cut up a bit already when they came by to cut the lawn on Thursday (and you can see that the shed was in fact unscathed, as well as the extent of the damage to the swingset)
They’d even been kind enough to carve some of the fallen portion into properly-sized logs for us, should Daniel ever feel the need to follow in your footsteps and use the fireplace again. Granted, it’ll probably take a year for them to cure sufficiently, but I doubt we’ll get to them any time soon; we haven’t the fireplace alight since your passing, to the best of my knowledge. We may have collectively forgotten how to use it, in fact, but at least we have the option.

With no one to talk to about what I was expecting, and me still worn out and sweaty from my workout in any event, I decided to head inside and take a shower. Hopefully, they would be back once I was cleaned off and dressed.

And indeed they were by then, and back to work, to say the least. What I hadn’t counted upon was that they would take down the rest of the tree that had withstood the winds of the past week – in the half-hour of my not paying attention, they’d not only gotten to work, they’d gone much farther than I’d expected (or, really, wanted) them to go. To be fair, it did explain why the price the father had quoted me on Thursday had been so high; it would understandably be more expensive to take down the rest of the tree than it would to simply cut up and remove the parts that had fallen.

I have to admit, honey, that I was a bit dismayed to see it, much like having gone to the barbers’ and gotten a trim that was far too close for my liking – and with the added realization that this was not going to be growing back in any time soon, if at all – but too late to do anything about it. Once this was taken down, what could I do about it – demand that it be put back up, like they should raise the flag at Iwo Jima? There was no point in making a scene about what had already been done, but I did want to understand why the misunderstanding came about.

It was at this point that both father and son indicated that I take a closer look at the trunk they had just felled. That’s not a knot in the tree; that’s a hollowing-out.
And the hollow section goes surprisingly deep; while there may not be any insects or other vermin in there at the moment making their homes in it, it would be the perfect place for them, and this should not be encouraged, even if the thing was likely to stand for a few more years. Best to get it taken down now, rather than doing it in half-measures like i had in mind.

When I relayed this information back to Daniel, he mentioned that you had removed some orange mushrooms from it once upon a time, so it’s not as if the decay it was suffering was some kind of new thing. You might have been just as surprised and dismayed to see it being taken down – you never liked losing anything in your life, did you, honey? – but upon seeing it pointed out, you would have nodded in as much, if not more, recognition as I did. This needed to be done.

Even Daniel expressed mixed emotions about the removal; on the one hand, he described it as “part of [his] childhood,” while at the same time complaining about how it smashed his childhood swing. Considering that it had held one of his childhood swings when we first moved in, maybe it was jealous. Then again, a quarter-century is a little late for revenge. Also, it had been two decades since Daniel bothered with using either of them, to be honest.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, we’ve had ivy creeping up to the front door. This may look nice on the outfield wall of Wrigley Field, but I’m a little worried that it might be eating at the mortar of the bricks. Besides, too much farther, and it might ring the doorbell, asking to be let inside. Not having that, thank you very much.
So I tasked the guys with cleaning this area up, as well. You can see that the growth has left a few scrape marks on the wall, but admittedly, it’s not about to come down any time soon. Still, this will keep it from happening for a few years to come, that’s for certain.

At this point, with all of this being taken care of, I decided that there wasn’t much I could do to direct them in their efforts. They had matters well in hand; better, indeed, than I’d had in mind for them in the first place. With that understood – and with Daniel off to take his twice-weekly bath – I’ve made my way to the ‘office’ to fill you in on the rest of the situation, starting with why it’s so much later than usual.

Anyway, I hope you can continue to keep an eye on us, honey, and wish us luck – even if we’ve had to take down that old tree – we’re still going to need it, you know.

Published by randy@letters-to-rachel.memorial

I am Rachel's husband. Was. I'm still trying to deal with it. I probably always will be.

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