Dinner or Tree

Luckily we could enjoy some of each.

I planned a swell, easy but unremarkable dinner: Throw some Niman Ranch Brats on the grill with summer squash we got at the farmers market.

dinner as served

Meanwhile, there’s this tree smack outside our back door. I love trees, but I hate this one; it’s big and unkempt and in my face when I look out or go out. We’re at a moving stage now where almost all boxes are unpacked and we can begin other things on the t’do list… like that tree.

that tree

So I called a tree guy. We swapped calls a couple times and then around 6:30, he said he’d be here in 20 minutes. I had to move the grill and chairs and the dinner moved from the grill to the skillet.

dinner in skillet

Just as the sausages were starting to sizzle, tree guy showed up.
No worries, I’ll just turn it off while he looks and advises.

Rip it out, Bob...

“This poplar doesn’t belong here, he said, “it can grow to 40 feet. The tree behind it will flourish if its gone. If you top it, it will make a huge bush and consume your terrace.”
As Carol often parodies This Old House, I said, “Rip it out, Bob.”
This was no idle advice, he got his chain saw out of the truck and summoned his son to come from nearby to help.

In about 20 minutes, I thanked the tree guy and paid him in cash. He’s a true Nevada cowboy man of action.