Timberrrr!

Tree Guy and Son came about noon yesterday.  They decided they'd rather work with the goats out of the barn, just in case.  The goats preferred that, too, especially since there was newly fallen browse to munch and chain saws and oil cans to inspect and gloves to pull out of pockets and shirts to tug.  Later, there were mountains of cut rounds to climb and on which to play Queen of the Hill.  The gentlemen had estimated they could finish in a day.  Not.  In their defense, it really is a tough job, complicated by not being able to get their truck into the pen, not wanting to squoosh the barn, and having to work around all of the four-legged inspectors.  I, wise woman that I am, stayed outside the pen, allowing the men to exercise their vocabulary at will, and giving them one less thing to worry about.  These photos were taken early on during the job.  I was shooting blind due to the bright sun, so am pretty pleased that I caught the falling limb.  Limb is a misnomer, as it is as big around as a regular trunk.

Tree Guy had to make a run to get more gasoline (can we say, "Plan ahead"?).  On his return, the Mafia Boys were cruising the driveway, and Tree Guy was very excited.  "Oh, man!  And me without my shotgun!"  He went on to tell me how excellent the breast meat was (the legs being not worth eating), and how some other lady had actually asked him to shoot the turkeys on her land because they were eating her bird food.  Hint, hint.  Sorry, Charlie...that ain't happenin' here.  I did tell him that this particular flock were like pets now and that I'd really miss even one of the Boys.

I didn't get pictures at the end of the day, but there are huge piles of the twiggy stuff and mountains of cut rounds.  Two more of the "branches" to the left have been taken down, and a good portion of those remaining have been limbed.  TG and Son have formulated a plan to take down the rest that involves ropes and come-alongs and wedges and mauls.  Son No. Two is due to come today to pile up and burn all the twiggy stuff.  Since the girls will be out again, we'll have to be careful to avoid a barbecue.  I don't know when TG and No. One Son will be back; they didn't say. 

The forecast is for rain Friday night into Saturday, and then snow coming in on Sunday and Monday, possibly down to two-thousand feet.  That may put a hitch in the git-along.  But what do I know?