We are back from a weekend at III. Saturday was hot but a breeze blew all day and Himself and I puttered around the clearing. He mowed; I went to town and shopped. He burned stumps; I smoothed cedar bed posts. Came evening and Himself cut stumps and I meandered along behind with my loppers awaiting the right opportunity. When he stood and stretched, I was there.
Will you please take out one scrawny cedar tree for me, while you have the chain saw out, I asked politely. Silence. A "look". Then, "which one?" he reluctantly asked and I showed him the small tree. He pondered but didn't answer. He stood and contemplated longer and I knew we were in far enough that I must remain quiet. Patiently I waited for the decision. I knew he could see the need but one thing was going to lead to a half dozen more.
He sighed. Then Himself said, "that whole clump needs to come out; those three are dead and that young oak is crooked and has to go". No, that oak will straighten out after the cedars are gone, I countered. Himself didn't reply and after a few more minutes, he pulled the rope and the chain saw roared to life.
There went the cedar. A stretch and a pause, then the second scraggly cedar was gone. Himself bent again to the task and in one fell swoop took out the little rugged oak, turned to me and grinned.
I was not surprised. I knew early in the negotiations that the price I might pay to have the cedars taken out was one poor, misshapen oak. I had gambled and lost; had hoped the Judge might grant a stay of execution at the last moment -- but had never counted on it.
Smiling to himself (I well imagine) he turned away and started on the three dead trees, calling over his shoulder, "you better figure out how to get these cut trees cleaned up!
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