The great cedar massacre
Our new house is (was) surrounded by cedar trees. For those of you who may not be familiar with red cedars, more technically known as Juniperus virginiana, they are considered an invasive tree (at least around here) and a fire hazard. Firefighters call them "gasoline on a stick" for their tendency to explode when exposed to flames. The state forestry department recommends keeping them away from one's house by at least 300ft. Plus, Kate is hideously allergic to them, particularly in February when they decide to pollinate, en masse, and they develop a reddish sheen to them. So, we decided to get rid of the cedars surrounding our house. Or, at least, those within 300ft of the place.
The husband of our real estate agent chops down cedars for a living. As a gift to us for our business in buying the house, they gave us two free hours of cedar slaughter. I wasn't at home at the time, but Kate vividly described the horror of the "great cedar massacre" over the phone to me while I was at work. A foot-wide blade attached to a tractor-like vehicle mowed through our cedar trees like a John Deer riding mower through tall grass. "Oh my god! There goes another one! And another one! He's cutting through them like butter! Oh my god! That's five trees he's cut down while I've been talking to you!"
I love trees, and I don't like cutting them down, so I was glad I wasn't there to witness the devastation. Kate was still slightly traumatized when I arrived home after work. And, yes, the yard, front and back, is now filled with piles of cedar corpses. Even with a chainsaw, it's going to take a long time to clean up the mess.
Anyone need any cedar wood?
The husband of our real estate agent chops down cedars for a living. As a gift to us for our business in buying the house, they gave us two free hours of cedar slaughter. I wasn't at home at the time, but Kate vividly described the horror of the "great cedar massacre" over the phone to me while I was at work. A foot-wide blade attached to a tractor-like vehicle mowed through our cedar trees like a John Deer riding mower through tall grass. "Oh my god! There goes another one! And another one! He's cutting through them like butter! Oh my god! That's five trees he's cut down while I've been talking to you!"
I love trees, and I don't like cutting them down, so I was glad I wasn't there to witness the devastation. Kate was still slightly traumatized when I arrived home after work. And, yes, the yard, front and back, is now filled with piles of cedar corpses. Even with a chainsaw, it's going to take a long time to clean up the mess.
Anyone need any cedar wood?