(Fellers of Trees, that is.)
Today promises to be a good day. The arborists finally showed up to take down two dead trees threatening the house--way too big for me to tackle alone--and a few dead limbs over the cable wire. And they are a lot to look at. One big blond guy in particular definitely works for me.
I hope I get a well paying job, because a plan is suddenly taking shape with me to spend my dotage hiring well-formed tradesmen to "do work" for me while I set up a lawn chair, pour a glass of ice tea, fire up a cigar, and dream.
I'm also pretty excited about the prospect of all that firewood to split. I'll easily have three cords, and these boys will cut to eighteen inches and stack all the trees they cut down. Woo hoo! With what we have on hand, we should be good for two years. Not to mention all the autumn afternoons I'll get to spend meditatively splitting and stacking, Robert Frost's poetry drifting through my head, getting my head straight.
* * * * *
When they came out to bid on the job, it was a woman who I spoke with. And now there seems to be another woman checking in with the guys. I think I've hired a lesbian owned-and-operated small business to help me with my dead tree problems.