Girl of the timberlost

Some of my faithful readers since time out of mind may remember when, four years ago today, I posted this.

Have you ever heard the one about, if we do not learn from history we are doomed to repeat it?

Earlier this year our neighbors across the street moved away. For about a month their house sat empty.

The new homeowners eventually began coming around, but their presence was sporadic at best. They seemed in no rush to move in.

But sometime within the last several weeks, they did move in. I haven't had a chance to meet them yet, and that's my fault.

Especially since, right around the fourth of July, I noticed that there was a very large and clearly dead tree at the edge of their side yard.

The tree was positioned so that, if the hand of God or Nature gave it a wee nudge and it toppled, it was going to land in or around our driveway.

No doubt about it.

I considered branching out a bit, going over to meet the new kids, making nice.

After we'd dispensed with the amenities I planned to point out the stump in my own side yard and tell them about the day four years ago when our own dead tree fell.

Right onto our nephew's pickup truck.

But I was busy either having company or getting ready to go out of town, and I procrastinated.

As I drove away last Wednesday, through my car's moon roof I took one last apprehensive gander at the gray, lifeless, leafless limbs spindling high into the sky across the street from my house.

On Thursday evening TG called me in Georgia.

"You won't believe," he said.

"What? What? Don't tell me it's bad news!" I said.

I just didn't want any bad news.

TG chuckled. "Well, it's sort of bad. The neighbor's tree fell on my truck."

TG was at work when the big event occurred.

Upon arriving home, several hours after the fact, he saw lots of pieces of a tree littered about our yard. Plus considerable tree debris decorating the street.

Then he noticed his truck.

Various neighbors who'd been keeping a sharp eye in anticipation of TG's dismaying discovery began leaving their cool houses and walking across the hot street to offer moral support.

Our new next-door neighbor reported that she was outside in her pool when tree trunk met truck bed.

Whump!

"It was so loud, I thought my garage door had fallen down," she said.

Another neighbor -- an elderly lady who is the go-to source for all community scuttlebutt -- told how the new homeowner had cleared a bunch of ivy off the dead tree's trunk the day before.

"If he'd left the ivy on it'd probably still be standing," she observed wryly.

Ivy leave you! Now wood you all please leave us in peace.

Happy Wednesday!

Comments

[Mari]

Hmmm! It would appear that your driveway is a dangerous place! I'm glad no one was hurt in either of these episodes. I'm thinking that in the future, no white trucks should park in your driveway./

[irene]

I'm sorry your TG's truck got bumped up. History does have a way of repeating itself, doesn't it? I'm waiting for that willow in my neighbor yard to fall over and take my fence. I know your anxiety. good to see you back. And how is our little prince growing?

[glenda]

Well, let's hope the old saying, third time is the charm, doesn't ring true. Maybe a darker color
vehicle will fare better..............G.

[Skunkfeathers]

Settled: if a tree falls in the neighborhood, and no one's there to see it, will it make a sound?

[Donna (Texas)]

OMWord Girl! I don't think I'd plant anymore of those weak wooded trees! That's Awful!!
Oak! Go Oak next time! Tell the neighbor!
hughugs