A few weeks ago, we had a terrific wind blow through town, starting around sundown. The wind chimes sang in protest non-stop through the night. At least, they were still chiming as I drifted off to sleep around midnight. I had a feeling the service-berry tree (about 30 feet tall) at the side gate might lose a few smaller branches, but I wasn't expecting the two main trunks to be snapped off. They had fallen across the alley, landing against Mike from Pittsburgh's fence. Thankfully, the fence was not damaged.
I called the borough for help in getting the trunks off the alley, and a police officer and I dragged them onto the apron of the carport. The company that had felled another dead tree for me last October told me they'd send someone around to take a look at it as soon as they could. They were overwhelmed by the number of trees knocked down during the night, but assured me someone would show up before the following Monday.
A week passed and no one came out, though, to be fair, we had another storm, with high winds, rip through the neighborhood the week after, so I didn't gripe too much. A second week, then a third, passed. The tree trunks remained on the carport.
When a month came and went, I decided to cut up the tree myself, despite the fact I've never done such a thing and was scared to death of the unused chainsaw I'd bought several years ago. It's an electric-powered saw, which I thought, mistakenly, would run quieter than the gas powered models.
By the time it dawned on me to photograph the butchering, most of the cutting was over. The saw and I will never be best buds, but I'm not terrified of it anymore. I have a very healthy respect for its power and pay careful attention to all the safety instructions printed on the body of the saw. Because the ground was wet from the storm, I put a piece of plywood down to rest the outlet box and the saw on, to help prevent possible shock. Might not have needed it, but better safe than fried.
The resulting pile of trunk pieces, some of which were quite heavy for their relatively small size, as I discovered when a piece I'd cut fell on my toes.
These were the branches at the ends of the trunks. Just got rid of the brush pile we'd been growing since we bought the house; looks like another has started.
My ex-husband made a huge power cord of 3/4-inch, 600 volt cable, with an insulated outlet box on one end and a grounded plug on the other. He made it for powering generators for his ham radio club's field day exercises. It became mine when he left it behind. It is a treasure. Here you see two reasons why the next chainsaw I purchase will be gas-powered, despite the noise they make: electric power cords and chainsaw teeth do not play nice together. I nearly fell twice while running the saw because I wasn't watching where I was stepping and tangled up in the yellow extension cord. (The cable is about 100-feet long and weighs a ton, and was stretched away from where the trunks lay, so it wasn't a problem.)
Yeah, I know - now - that I should have had on my steel-toed boots. I will next time. Was covered head to feet in sawdust, which smelled good but was the devil to clean off the shirt.
The rest of the sawdust. My next chore is to cut down the snags at the gate. I have to study how to cut them, because there are power lines running very close to them. Cutting up this tree was a good experience because it helped me realize I'm not helpless, nor am I incapable of taking care of my property (and, by extension, myself) on my own...a good thing to know.
14 comments:
You're a lumberjack... and you're alright...!
Oh, Crow! How dare you visit such memories on my Saturday morning? The coffee isn't even done yet, and I'm remembering how I've yet to find the chain saw that fits my hand, much as gardening tools do not either.
My step-dad has a bow saw. I used to lust after it, but not so much now.
Fate might one day make a gentleman farmer of me, but until then, I'm sorta liking the occasional thought of growing a tomato in a bucket on the balcony I do not have.
Always excellent to have such reminders of our own self-sufficiency. That's one of the reasons I read your blog, Martha-- From chainsaw massacres to plumbing conundrums, you're apparently more able to take care of yourself than you think and you're (believe it or not!) an inspiration to my lazy self.
She's a lumberjack and she's ok,
She sleeps all night and she works all day!
Competence is underrated as a virtue and source of joy.
A challenging and entertaining post. The bit I like best is the wind chimes singing in protest. Congratulations on tackling the saw so sturdily.
Go girl!! But oh, once again you put me to shame, I'm terrified of most power equipment though I do use an electric hedge trimmer and gas lawn mower on occasion. Maybe if I didn't have a man around the place...
This takes me back. We had millionaire friends who had a large area of land round their rather scrubby house near Churt in swanky Surrey (Come to think of it we lived in Surrey at the time, though in the less swanky part). Their life revolved round horses and gradually they were felling the pines to allow more space for their beloved nags. I went down at weekends to help de-branch the chopped-down trunks. He had electric and petrol-engine saws and I was surprised to find that the electric was not only more powerful but also preferable; ie, when briefly stalled it didn't stop. There was a further stage in the proceedings in which the trunk were sawed into foot-long length and then split for their wood-burning stove. Splitting (with an axe) required great sympathy with the wood, otherwise the axe got stuck. Since I lacked the necessary sympathy and the patience to acquire it I dropped out of this work. You're right about metal-caps; the saws used to terrify me.
Steve, at one point during my adventure, I thought of that Monty Python skit and started humming the tune, though I couldn't remember how it went. Thanks!
Jim, I bet my almost-new electric chain saw would fit your hand. I'll even throw in the yellow extension cord, if you'd like to have it.
Grandson's class is raising money fro their senior class trip (next year), and I bought two hanging tomato plants. I'll let you know how that turns out.
Kali, I'd much rather hire some of these jobs out to professionals who truly know their business. I didn't expect to be spending my much-touted "golden yesrs" learning to be a handyman...I mean, handywoman, but finances dictate I learn to do some of this stuff.
Besides, this is fun stuff - so far.
Zhoen, now that song is running through my head, like the song that never ends. I have you and Steve to thank for that.
Yes, joy is exactly what I felt when I finished the job, and a modicum of pride/satisfaction that I could do it - and still have all fingers and toes.
Gaining confidence in your ability to fend for yourself, I find, goes a long way toward keeping the octopus of depression at bay.
Plutarch, when the breeze is gentle, the wind chimes are melodic, almost tuneful. When the wind is strong, they clang discordantly, sounding aggravated and angry with the world.
Tonight, the chimes are playing whar sounds like a lullaby.
Marja-Leena, when the man you have around is a good one, that always trumps having to learn to do things alone.
Men are great to have around. For one thing, most of them have 911 on their speed dials, a real plus when the person weilding the chainsaw doesn't really know what she's doing!
BB, re the electric saw not stopping when stalled: That's the part that unnerved me a bit, when the trunk I was cutting pinched against the blade. I tried propping the piece I was cutting against another, the cut from below, which solved that problem.
You can bet I'll be wearing the steel-toes when I next use the saw. Might also have my leather welder's coat and gloves, plus the hood and shield. (I'm not a welder - took an introductory course in welding and had to buy the gear.) I was not dressed correctly when I cut the trunks and have lingering bruises on toes and one knee as testament to my foolhardiness.
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