Today my mom cut down a tree with a hacksaw.

Not a big tree, mind you.

Just a little sapling that was sprouted by the electric box.

Maybe I should start from the beginning. There was an oak tree that decided it wanted to grow near the electric box, and since it was growing inside of a hedge, no one noticed it until it was big enough to peek over the hedge. And then we were too lazy to do anything about it, so it kept growing and growing until it became a reasonably tall sapling, about as thick as a softball and a half.

This afternoon, I was coming back from lunch with my dad and cousin, and got roped into (Raked into, really. She came at me with a rake.) helping my mom clear leaves from the lawn. Because the giant tree outside my house is apparently on Australia time and didn’t bother dropping its leaves until fucking March. So there we were, raking leaves in the middle of spring (Well, one inkling of spring. This is Ohio and everything and anything could happen. It could snow next week for fuck’s sake.), and my neighbor came out of her garage with a hacksaw and asked me to hold down a portion of the hedge surrounding the electric box between our houses.

I complied, and held down the indicated portion of hedge. Scraped up my hand in the process, I might add.

She went at the trunk of the little tree with the hacksaw, just barely making a dent before my mom came over to investigate. In three seconds, my mom became a self-declared hacksaw expert and grabbed the other end of the hacksaw to help chop down that tree. After a few minutes it became evident that the hacksaw was doing nothing whatsoever, so my mother sent me down the street to the other neighbor’s house to get a proper saw.

They didn’t have a proper saw, but they did have what looked like a large switchblade-type knife that had these jagged teeth. So I took that and skipped back down the street and handed my mother the saw. It took her and my neighbor a few minutes to open the saw, and neither would let me help because at twenty-two, I am clearly not old enough to play with knives. Once the knife was open, they god to hacking at the tree. And noticed a big problem.

The neighbor’s car, right in the path of the soon to be falling tree.

At this point, neighbor’s husband came out and asked us what we were doing.

Chopping down a tree, duh. And holding down a hedge that really wanted to be upright.

Like any middle aged married man who knows what’s good for him, he merely rolled his eyes and came to help. He even took the saw and sawed for a while. And when the tree started tipping toward his very nice car, he grabbed a branch and helped me maneuver it away from the car.

Finally the tree was on the ground, and bigger than my neighbor had supposed it to be, apparently. It was too big to fit in any sort of bin, so my neighbor procured a chain saw (where was this chainsaw when we were trying to cut down the damned tree?!) and started to hack the tree into manageable pieces.

Perhaps using the chainsaw initially would have been easier. But then I guess it wouldn’t be as fun, right?

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