Logging the Back .40

Note the decimal placement. Not the “back forty.” The back “point-4-0.” As in .40 of an acre. Really, it’s half an acre, but “logging the back .40” sounds better.

We live on a double lot. It wasn’t always a double lot. In fact, when we bought our house twenty years ago, the property was .40 of an acre. My Liege, although trained as a professional forester, was, um, “blessed” with a businessman’s mind. So it always bothered him that our property was just shy of the ability to subdivide it. After about ten years, our family’s needs grew too large for the house. We looked around, but couldn’t find another neighborhood that suited us. So we built an addition. The day we began excavating (literally, THE DAY), the daughter of our elderly neighbor asked if we wanted to buy the elderly neighbor’s house. The DH was all over this. It was a huge financial challenge to buy the neighbor’s house while building an addition on our present house. Especially because the housing market tanked, and after changing the property lines to get enough extra area to take off a lot between the two houses, we couldn’t sell the neighbor’s house for the same price we bought it at. It sat empty for several months, then we finally began renting it out. Wonderful renters, too. But the house was only two bedrooms with one bathroom, so when the wife became PG with their third child, they had to move. We put the house on the market again. It didn’t sell. Then I decided to sell it myself. Don’t ask me why it sold then. Clearly, I’m uber-talented. But we got our asking price, the same price we’d bought the house at (yes, we put some work into it, too).

The biggest challenge to fell. Only a few green branches remained on this monster. The rest was as dead as the top. Note the power line. I was on the road directing traffic (essentially, swinging my arms about and jumping up and down, yelling, "Don't come any closer!")

Naturally, a year later, the housing market began climbing again and before we knew it the house was worth twice what we sold it for. That’s real estate for you. You do what you can at the time and don’t look backward.

Long story not really shortened, we’re still living in our first house (with an addition) that we bought twenty years ago and our back yard looks reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally big. But it’s actually a second lot.

Two other dead trees came down before my father tackled this one (same tree as above photo). It had grown into a dangerous angle leaning into the road.

I could go into a lengthy description of the number of trees surrounding our house twenty years ago, but it’s a pretty huge description, including an exhaustive number of Dutch elm trees that were supposed to be a hedge but the old people we bought the house from had given up and let them grow into trees. We turned them back into a hedge, realized it needed cutting every three weeks, so cut the hedge to stumps following a bad car accident that left us incapable of trimming the hedge every three weeks at the time. The next spring, A MILLION irises, lilies, tulips, daffodils, and the like sprung up in place of the hedge. I swear, I did not plant a single one. The thickness of the hedge had prevented them from blooming.

Over the years, we’ve cut down trees here and there. Two so we could add on a sundeck, two so we could add on a mud room. One because our toddler was allergic to it (birch). One because it was infested with Dutch elm disease and we learned the black bugs that had filtered down our fireplace were also getting into our neighbors’ houses. Plus, the row of evergreens between our house and the neighbor’s house slowly turned into a wood pile, because it looked weird to have our new 1/2 acre yard cut at the 9/10th mark by a row of old, skinny, scraggly trees (we kept a copse for the quail and pheasants and deer to play in/chew on).

We have a fireplace, so anything we’ve cut has been used to heat the house. A couple of weeks ago, my dad came over (retired logger), and he, My Liege, and Eldest Son went to work again. Whoever planted eight trillion Engleman spruces in our yard forty or fifty years ago must not have realized that they aren’t the prettiest trees in the world. Plus, they planted them too close together. So they grew very tall and skinny, and over the years several died—or became nearly dead. Which is dangerous. Especially when a stiff breeze might cause one of them to crash into our house or take out the power lines. This year we needed to take out the danger trees. There were 7 of them. Three skinny ones, three big ones, and one middle one. We still have five maples, an oak, another deciduous tree I love but couldn’t name, another smaller deciduous tree I love but also can’t name, a lilac bush that grew into a tree, and a heckuva lot more Engleman spruce that are still healthy.
Old Logger, a.k.a my dad, bucking off limbs that we stacked up so the chipper could come and chew them up. The remaining logs are slowly turning into next year's firewood.

For two-three weeks, our yard was a mess, while we waited for the chipper to arrive.

View of yard where 3 of the danger trees stood, after the chipping guys took away the debris. My maples are shedding leaves, so now we have to rake them and take them to my mom's compost so they can rot into fertilizer for her massive gardens next year.

I know some people will hate that we cut down ANY trees. But people who live in wood-framed houses and have wood floors and furniture made of wood and don’t recycle their computer paper really shouldn’t throw stones. 😉

All About Kate–And Allie’s Birthday

My buddy, my pal, my life-long friend, Kate St. James, has an interview up at the Red Sage Authors blog today. Feel free to go read it. You never know what info you might glean! If you’re so inclined, you can even ask her a question. She promises she might answer. But only if you’re nice.

In other news, my puppy, my girl, my doggie, Allie McBeagle, turns 9 today! She wants a small Dairy Queen ice cream cone. She really wants a “baby burger,” but she needs to wait until she’s ten.

Happy birthday, Allie!

Allie McBeagle with E.S., about to fall asleep. She's really still 8 here, but that's okay.

Baby Allie, December 2001. About 8 weeks. Beagles change coloring as they age. Six months later, her face and ears where you see black were brown. Her muzzle started to turn white at 4. Isn't she cuuuuuuuuuuuttttte?

My Dog Likes Cantaloupe

What’s up with that?

I had to create a fruit dish and a vegetable platter for my mother-in-law’s 80th birthday recently. Her twin brother visited from Australia, and we had a wonderful time. So I did something I rarely do—I bought a cantaloupe.

I hate cantaloupe. I just don’t get the taste. It bothers me. In fact, as I think about it, the only melon I really, really like is of the water variety. Yum.

So I had leftover cantaloupe, and then My Liege and I had to go out of town to move Youngest Son into residence at his university in another province (he won’t be home until Christmas, sob). I thought Eldest Son and his GF would eat up all the leftover fruit and vegetable platters while I was gone. Alas, they did not. I made short work of the vegetable platter as soon as I got home. But no way was I touching that cantaloupe.

E.S. went through a cantaloupe stage in high school. I was buying them every week, and he’d gobble them up. However, he hasn’t requested a cantaloupe purchase in a couple of years now. I thought I’d rubbed off on him.

But he started eating the leftover cantaloupe. And then he discovered that Allie McBeagle loves it, too! She not only loves it, she adores it. She’d ravish an entire cantaloupe in one licking, I do believe. She just would not leave him alone while he enjoyed his slice.

The next morning, we discovered this weird note on the kitchen table. From the dog. Don’t ask me how it got there. But she was begging for cantaloupe. She was simply beside herself with wanting more. E.S. obliged. Since then, she made her life’s mission to leave these odd notes about cantaloupe all over the house—until she and E.S. had consumed every last slice.

Right now she’s looking up at me communicating with her eyes, “Buy more cantaloupe!” But I will not. Maybe next week.

What weird thing (to you) does your dog (or other pet) like to consume? I’ve tried feeding Allie grapes and bananas, and she turns up her beagle nose. But whisper “cantaloupe” to her, and she’s goes crazy.

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Baby Be Gone

Y.S. turned twenty on Wednesday. Yesterday he flew to geology field school. E.S. and also Y.S.’s girlfriend accompanied me to the airport to see him off. I had a good cry in the bathroom beforehand. As soon as field school is finished, Y.S. starts his second year of university—but his first year away from home. He has a good head on his shoulders, so I’m not worried about him. Much. And I’ll see him in a few weeks when my husband and I drive his stuff up and move him into residence. But my baby is still gone. Empty nest redux around here for the next couple of weeks, I’m sure.

As E.S. points out, at least I have him again! For another year. I call him The Stomach now. Our grocery bill dropped substantially when he was gone.

Those who have been following my Peru posts, I’ll get back to them next week. Finally! I know I left you hanging at the entrance to Machu Picchu, which was definitely the highlight of our trip. But life and deadlines intervened.

Summer Madness

Summer madness has caught up to me. The month of August promises to zip by! If I’m not around here much, that’s why.

I’m behind on the Peru posts. I’d like to say I’ll start posting about Peru again next week, but no promises as it takes me a long time to format the pictures and write the posts. I do have a guest blogger appearing next Tuesday, historical romance author Kris Kennedy. Please drop by for a chance to win her latest release.

I will start up the Peru posts again as soon as I can. After going out of town to celebrate our anniversary last weekend, I’m in writing catch-up mode. Next week I need to devote to putting together ancillary materials for my December 2011 Five Star Expressions release, WHERE SHE BELONGS. Yes, that’s 16 months away, but my editor has the edits ready for me, and I’ll be going through those next week, too.

I guess you could say I’m in my writing cave.

Except I’m also in my summer cave.

Did I mention #1 son had his laptop stolen? Much kerfuffle revolved around that the last couple of weeks.

And #2 is leaving for university soon. When Eldest Son came home, I thought we’d all get to unpacking his boxes and deciding what Y.S. would need for his first year of residence, then repacking them again. Yeah, right. Maybe we’ll start this weekend.

I did a lot of outside painting in July, and I’m not finished. But we need to prep Y.S. for university first.

How’s your summer going? Are you super busy, too?

For Bikers Who Golf!

Yes, I’m still on a tech break. It would be pretty pathetic if I stopped blogging for only two days, no? One might think I’m addicted. While I’m breaking, I thought I might as well commandeer the blog for some free advertising for my husband’s new business (he’s the one without the beard-goatee thingie). For more information, pop by www.ironhorsecaddybag.com or visit on Facebook. Happy viewing!