The Silver Lining

A lifetime ago, maybe 30 years or so, people at work used to call me "Pollyanna" because I always found the silver lining when life was not going so well. It was not always meant as a compliment!  About a dozen years ago, all I could see were the clouds.  For about five years, all the clouds were gray.  Finally, I met a psychiatrist who spent more than five minutes with me and discovered a whole lot of junk in my head that all those misfiring synapses had created.  After that, my outlook improved tremendously and not only could I see those silver linings again, I saw the occasional "hand of God" through the clouds.  (The picture above is what I refer to as the "hand of God.")

We've had a lot of storms lately in the Chicago metropolitan area.  Just like with the snowy winter, I predict record-breaking rainfall for this summer.  Or at least close to it.

Last week, I had a huge part of a tree to move out of the backyard after one of those severe storms.  But I was prepared to meet the challenge head-on!  Sunday, after breakfast, I donned my "work" shoes and heavy duty gloves, grabbed the chainsaw and prepared to face the enemy.  With great confidence I strode briskly to the back of the yard, pulling a 30-foot heavy-duty extension cord along.  The neighbors to the South were in their backyard, a couple about my age with their 11-year-old triplets, Eddie, Danny and Katie.  Oooooh, I had an audience.  Well, be prepared to be impressed, people!  I plugged the chainsaw into the extension cord, revved her up a little and got to work.

It started out well.  From the large piece of tree, I cut smaller sections off, just small enough so I could drag them to the street.  As I cut each new section off, I pulled it out of the way, creating a big pile in front of the shed. The two boys next door were tossing a baseball back and forth, but I could tell they were watching and I felt smug.  (You would think that at this point in my life I would've learned this lesson already.)  Then, as I started cutting another branch, the weight of the whole piece of tree caused the branch I was cutting to twist, trapping the chain of the chainsaw in its fibrous grip.  Hmmm.  This was a problem.

I retrieved a handsaw from the garage and, after unplugging the chainsaw, I started to cut away the branch on one side of the chain.  It wasn't loosening its grip.  Of course, I had trouble controlling the handsaw for two reasons:  one, I had too big of a saw, and two, I didn't know how to hold it properly.  The handsaw kept getting stuck in the branch.  After I yanked it out for the fifth or sixth time, I decided to get a smaller saw.  (See, I'm not totally inept, just mostly.)  The smaller saw wasn't even cutting through the bark.  By this time, it was getting hotter, the sun had come out and I was muttering all kinds of imprecations.

All of a sudden, my neighbor, Dan, came up to me and asked "Did it [something]?" which I took to mean "Was it stuck?"  I felt like saying, "No, I just like to cut branches with dull knives on a sunny Sunday when the heat index is about 100 degrees."  But I bit my tongue.  Good thing I did, too, because he had come armed with his own handsaw and offered to help.  First, he lifted the main part of the tree off the ground which caused the branch to release its grip on the chain.  After I extricated that, I saw the chain drooped from the blade.  Great, now the chain on the chainsaw was no good.  *sigh*

I found out from Dan that the piece of tree in my yard was actually the smaller part of a much bigger piece.  He said he had seen it break and fall from the tree.  The neighbors behind us had cut up the much larger section on Saturday.  I was incredulous!  What I had in my yard was big, we had lost a lot of tree.  It was an  Ash tree, too, which is a very slow-growing tree with hard, dense wood.  It is coveted by people who burn wood because it lasts a loooong time.

After that, things went fairly quickly.  He cut while I dragged branches to the front.  I was breathing heavy after a fairly short period of time, but as long as Dan was working, I felt I couldn't rest yet.  He pulled some branches to the front and then took the trunk to his other neighbor, who has a wood-burning stove.  When he returned to his own yard, I collapsed on the bench outside.  Then I dragged more branches.  Then I rested again.  Then I dragged more branches.  Then I . . . well, you get the picture.  Finally, I cleaned up the tools.  My father would be pleased to know that all his years of drumming into me "Always clean up and put away the tools when you're done for the day" has stuck with me.

I guess I was still pretty red in the face when my friend stopped by not long after I'd gone in the house and drank a quart of water.  Took quite a while to get back to my normal, pasty self.

The "clouds" in this tale would be:  the storm, the loss of part of a valuable tree, the heat and humidity, and, well, my own stupidity in getting the chain caught and ruining it.  The silver linings would be:  we didn't lose the whole tree, we didn't have the bigger piece to cut up, I had help from my neighbor and it wasn't raining.

We had another storm Wednesday during which we lost power and didn't get it back until Thursday afternoon, but that was rather anticlimactic after the previous week.  I don't think I'll even mention it.