2004-07-08
Tree City Chopage
An ongoing issue between my boyfriend and I is this dead tree in front of our lawn. I'll call the tree...ummm...Deady from now on. He apparently prefers the aesthetics of a rotting DEAD tree frequented by vile ugly crows, because every time I ask him to call the city to remove Deady he comes up with excuses not to:
"I don't want to pay the city to remove it." (The tree is technically on city property. A neighbor even agreed with me that the city would remove it for FREE and goes so far as to give you a new one for FREE. One that we could call Alivey!)
"I don't want a new tree." (But he prefers a dead one?!?! Deady isn't a cat or a dog. I'm attached to Deady too but I've accepted the fact it is now time to say "Timberrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" The neighbour informed him that if you don't want a new one just tell the city. And get this, THEY WON'T PUT ONE UP!)
"I can do it myself." (He can't. He doesn't own a saw big enough to cut down the tree. In fact, he doesn't own ANY saw to cut down this tree).
"I'll buy a saw." (Cost of buying a saw $XX.00 vs. city removing it $0.00. You do the math. Unless, some company will pay him to take a saw off their hands I don't see how this is the better option).
"I need a saw for other things." (Apparently not, since it’s been 4 months since he said that and he still hasn't bought one).
"We can use it for firewood" (We can't. We don't have a screen for the fireplace and the chimney is broken).
"I will." (Translation: I won't. Often used to shut me up).
"I want the front lawn to look better first." (Won't it automatically look better once a dead rotting fungus covered tree is removed? Worried about what 1 person will think of your lawn the 1 time they seen it vs. the 30+ people who see your lawn, with Deady, daily).
He'd need a permit to cut Deady. Why would he pay the city to give him a permit to cut one of THEIR trees they would normally cut for free?
Why don't I cut Deady myself? Because I don't own the property. I don't pay the property tax. Sadly, I haven't perfected a masculine sounding voice, yet.
I struck a deal with him. (More of an ultimatum since he didn't agree to it). I wouldn't unpack the rest of my belongings until he gave Deady the funeral he deserved. My bf, who hates boxes of my stuff lying around as much as I hate being stuck in a room with a rabid dog, was suppose to crumble and succumb to the only rational solution of tree city choppage.
Except. . .
We had a visitor and then a party so I felt obligated to make room.
Today I went sleuthing and found the email address of someone at the city he could contact in case he forgot where we keep the phones at home.
Still I feel like that won't be enough to inspire him. Perhaps there is someone out there who knows what he's going through (because I as sure hell don't) and can offer him some courage, inspiration (or a chain-saw). Tell him how you let go of your own rotting foliage. If not, I am going to start packing up stuff in boxes and leave them randomly through out the house.
popnoir at 10:27 p.m.