Thursday, September 20, 2012
No capes, thunderbolts, or sticky webs. My action heroes wouldn't wear tights if their lives depended on it. Pickup trucks and tractors instead of Batmobiles. I may not be a swooning damsel in distress, but I can count on my guys to come to my rescue all the same. How many times has Joel come riding over the hill to attack the dreaded star thistle? Yesterday Tree Guy and Sons arrived armed with chainsaws to save the endangered oak. There is more to be done, but with the four hundred or more pounds cut off the end the limb raised itself at least six inches, enough to close the gap on the trunk. TG threw several big leafy end branches, each the size of a small tree, over into the goat pen. Within minutes the girls had stripped every leaf; one would think they hadn't eaten in a week. Sons One and Two had worked under the oak the day before until they ran into a nest of red ants and No. 2 Son got a bite on the neck. Every hero runs into some version of kryptonite. Yesterday they opted for the tree down in the field. I don't blame 'em.